in short-
I seriously thought my husband got struck by lightning today.
Not kidding.
And I honestly felt like I wouldn’t even have been surprised.
That’s really what our life has felt like for the last 9 months.
A merry go round of sadness, frustration, fear, pain and complete crap-a** circumstances.  One hurdle after another.
This week-my Marine managed to bust himself up again-pretty good this time.  Double break in his collarbone…cue the surgeon, please.
There are no words to describe the fear that seized my soul when I answered the phone to what I though was his call and it wasn’t him on the other end-I couldn’t even let his coworker speak, I instantly peppered him with questions, namely-
“WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME ON MY HUSBAND’S PHONE?”
To his credit, he remained 110% Marine Corps calm in the face of my harangue-and thankfully, save for the extremely painful injury of a collarbone broken in 2 places, my beloved man was ok.
Mostly.
As ok as you can be when you’re hit with another blow in the absolute WORST year of your entire life.
I wish I could say I was that stoic and strong caretaker that I’m supposed to be in the face of yet another wall we hit going 90 miles an hour…
I think I’d rate this one an EPIC FAIL on my part.  Which is exactly how we ended up with him outside in a raging thunderstorm (that was parked squarely on top of my little house,) searching for our spare house keys because we couldn’t find the car keys as we raced out the door to his pre-op appointment.
You see, it’s like this.
9 months ago, my husband answered the call that would forever alter our lives.  The call that would destroy our dreams, shatter our family as we knew it, shred our future as we dreamed it and pulverize the peace in every corner of our souls.
And since that moment, it has felt like we keep hitting a brick wall going 90 miles an hour at least once a week.
Please don’t take this as a “poor me, I’m so downtrodden,” kind of post.  Take it for what it is.  An honest look at the tornado that ripped my home from it’s foundation and dumped my family in a foreign land.  One where we don’t really know who we are, how we got there or how to get back to where we came from.
I rapidly alternate clinging to The Word and my Savior with episodes of gut wrenching, wall beating, lung shattering moments of anger that literally set me ablaze.
And I’m just so. bloody. tired.
I’m tired of people who give lip service to Christ, whose actions truly speak SO MUCH LOUDER than their words, or lack thereof.
I’m tired of tossing and turning, tormented by lack of sleep and troubled by fitful dreams when sleep finally comes.
I’m tired of watching my oldest daughter pretend that she is JUST FINE.  Because someway, somehow, she got the skewed idea that she should “just focus on the happy times” and it’ll all be OK! Because Mercy & Sammy are with Jesus, so what on earth should we be sad about?  SERIOUSLY?  Of course they are with Jesus, but that doesn’t make their death and absence from this life any less awful to deal with!  
I’m tired of my sweet son CONSTANTLY pestering me to watch TV first thing in the morning because he is so lonely and morning was his time with them.  It was that precious time when the best of the mischief happened and the bonds that anchored him to his twin and his brother were knit together so tightly.
I’m tired of seeing my innocent little Charley bean rapidly morph from patient and kind big sister into a selfish and manipulative shell of herself, just trying to find a way to fill the void that her heart constantly feels.
And I’m tired of ceaselessly hitting that brick wall.
Now, let’s be realistic here.
A shady contractor, lack of sleep, severely strained relationships, some stinky health issues for both Charles and me, abundant car troubles, broken a/c, yet another sinus infection and a pervading sense of doom don’t make me Job.
And I certainly can’t claim Job’s all encompassing and unwavering faith.  But I can sure as heck tell you that there is a tiny corner of my soul that is in awe of Job in a way that I can’t fully put into words.
Because friends-the character that Job displayed in the face of constant and great adversity is so far beyond my comprehension.  I wish, with every part of my heart, that I could display even one ounce of the faith that Job lived.
But, honestly, I’m just so tired.
So, tonight I ask for your prayers once again.
For my hurting husband, our precious children and for our weary and world battered hearts.
Please cover Charles in prayer as he undergoes surgery tomorrow.  Please cover me in prayer as I shoulder both of our responsibilities.  Please cover our children in prayer as they make yet another adjustment in an ever changing landscape.
But, simply and most importantly, pray that we know these simple truths…
But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 
                                                                                    2 Corinthians 12:9a
I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. 
                                                                                    Phillipians 4:13 

There is absolutely NO way I can get through even one more minute without these truths tattooed on my heart and in my soul.

I pray tonight that each of you knows the simple truth of the unending and merciful grace of Christ, that you would know how loved and cherished you are by The Father, and that you would understand the blessing that each of your prayers is in our lives.

In His grip and only by His Grace,
clan mac mama