Bittersweet

Today was clinic day and it is day 69 post transplant. The appointment was fine, nothing new to report, which at this stage, is a good thing. However, today was more draining because, once again, I didn't sleep well. I guess the strain of the whole experience is getting to me a bit at the moment.

Question. How do you kill an extrovert? Answer. Put them in isolation and then put them under house arrest. This week I've been struggling with motivation. You might ask, why do you need motivation when technically, you have nothing to do? Yes, well, I was under that same illusion, but as it transpires, when I lack motivation, I become depressed. It doesn't even have to be motivation for huge projects. Just little things like finish knitting the baby booties for niece number two, Ariabella Faith Gunarathne. Ariabella, which means prayerful, was born on Sunday 29th September 2013, surprisingly on her due date. Apparently, this one cries; it would seem they have got a real baby this time unlike Elliana Grace, meaning "God answers our prayers", who is so well behaved that she could pass for a doll! With regards to the booties, in my defence, even though it has taken me months to complete such a small item, I am now actually on my 4th bootie - the first one didn't look right, the second one was fine, the third one was fine until I sewed the cross over flaps the wrong way round which meant that I had two left booties; hence bootie number four.

It has been a week of mixed emotions, but things are maybe looking up? It's just frustrating that when I seem to be getting into the swing of things, something seems to knock me back again. But I guess its part of the process, its that good old bumpy road again. The Elders meeting for our church was held here last night. They where here for ages! Goodness knows what they were talking about. They wouldn't let me stay and chat for very long, something about avoiding crowds and not overdoing it, but I think the real reason was that they wanted to start playing monopoly - why else would a meeting go on for so long? Although, I would never say that to their faces for fear of not be able to run away quick enough...yet. I was so excited and happy to see everyone, I literally felt like an excited puppy! 

But once again, it was bittersweet. It reminded me of what it would have been like in biblical days when someone would get an infection and they would have to stay outside the camp so that it didn't spread. The only difference is that, this time, it is for my own protection. But even though I am blessed by people visiting, it is a lonely place to be. I hate not being involved. I never thought I would say this, but I hate not being able to go to church meetings - that's how desperate the situation has got! I just want to start living my life. In my head I know that my last statement is incorrect for a number of reasons but my heart doesn't believe them, maybe my heart doesn't want to believe them. But it's not long to go now; I have about a month left of my house arrest sentence, but there is still fear associated with the freedom that will follow. There is always the fear of infection, and the fear of developing Graft Vs Host disease once I come off the immunosuppressants. I feel so close to the end point, the point of safety, the point when I can say that this is all over; but at the same time these fears always seem to move the goalposts at the very last minute.

I have felt far from God this week; well further in comparison to the last nine months. I think its because I've been avoiding talking to Him about what is hurting me; I just don't want to cry anymore. It drains me completely and leaves me empty. I just want to be happy. I want to escape to a different world. It is a world where I am in control, where only good things happen to me, where I craft out my life. However, it is a world where God refuses to be present, or maybe I refuse Him entry, and that is always the part that kills the dream, that leaves me with despair, that brings me crashing back to this world full of pain and suffering, but with God. Something inside me hates to admit this, but it is much better and fulfilling to live a life of pain with God, than to create my own perfect world without Him. It always brings me back to the same place, I cannot live without Him, He is too important too me; when all is lost, He is still there and that is more than I can say for my "doll house" of a world. 

I know that I have been through much pain and grief over such a short period of time. I know that the only way to heal is to revisit these issues a little bit at a time over many years, because the pain is too intense to deal with in one shot. But each time an issue comes up, that I have grieved about before, I cant help but feel exhausted and a sense of failure. Once I have grieved, it always feels likes I've managed to complete a task, I've managed to tick a box. But it is not the case. 

When I was growing up and even into my earl twenties, I never dealt with any of the pain and grief I experienced because I didn't see the point; it wouldn't change the outcome. I just needed to put it away in a box and get on with things. I did myself a great disservice. What I didn't realise at the time was that I was not a machine with the soul purpose of achieving outcomes. I didn't know I was more than that. I didn't know that I was a person. I didn't know what I was worth in the eyes of my Creator. But, now that I know who I am in Christ and how much He loves me, everything has changed. Healing from the past and present is happening. I once didn't see the point of being healed, but I now know that I was living in shackles, I was owned by my grief and my circumstances. I never accepted that because I was under the illusion that I was in control of my life, I was able to keep spinning the plates without letting one drop. However, history tells a very different story. It tells of a lost, struggling, sorrowful little girl who convinced herself that everything was alright in order to survive because she didn't know that there was someone who could or wanted to save her from her pitiful existence. 

It is a painful business, healing is. I quite often set the agenda with God about things I want Him to heal in my life, but thankfully, He never agrees to it. He chooses the item, He chooses the time. Sometimes, the healing will happen after a horrid nightmare, sometimes it will happen through reading the Bible, and sometimes it will happen through a faithful friend who can see past my facade. But what ever way it happens, God is in control and there is no safer place to be than in the palm of His hands.