Let Go (Let God?)

Dang! If that title of a blog doesn't catch your attention, I don't know what will! I didn't title this blog, however, for it's eye-catching appeal, I titled it this simply because I'm heading there. When I hear this somewhat cheesy phrase, "Let Go, Let God," I think a few things, "UGH THAT IS SO CHEESY..." is a big one, we know, another one would be, sounds like someone is trying to tell me to surrender. Surrender to what? Surrender to who? God, I would imagine....

From writing all these blogs and having all these "what ifs" about faith come in and out of my brain ALL THE TIME, recently I find myself wondering if I should just let go. I'm slowly (don't get too excited yet) starting to believe that God is around. I've talked about before if the miraculous things that have happened with my mom's cancer is God shaking me and saying, pardon my french, "Wake up dumbass!" "You asked for proof, you asked for a sign, here it is!" I speculated, hoped, wished that that was the case, but deep down didn't really think that's what was going on. Lately, however, perhaps it is. Why not? Why couldn't it be?

Recently letting go sounds like something I would very much enjoy. Let go. Let God. Perhaps I should surrender this fight I am having with my faith. Give up. Stop fighting it so darn much! Let it go. Let IT happen. Let God show me. Open my eyes and ears and listen.

Now don't get all excited, I'm no cured doubter I don't think, but a small barrier has come down. Fighting what may be the truth is not really what I'm interested in doing anymore. I've never been a person to say that God and his works are a "no-way," however, I have had a mucho hard time saying it is a "yes-way."

Why do I fight it so? What would be so bad about having a big ol' daddio-type figure watching out for me and my peeps? Why would it be horrible to have a light guiding my path, someone to talk to, someone to reach for, someone to lean on?

 Perhaps I doubt because of me, not because of God. Not because of what God is or isn't, but because what I would be or not be. If I believe and turn out to be wrong, I look like a big fat idiot. Naive, ignorant, immature to real life and it's ways. My failures and sadness and lose would be because of me, not because God was looking out and had a better plan for me or the ones I loved. I guess I just don't want to look stupid. I don't want to be conned.

Never-the-less, (sorry for straying, maybe, there for a bit) I am letting go.....a little. I am letting God... a little. I'm saying, "Hmmmmm, nice move, God. Interesting strategy with the whole gonna-beat-the-crap-outta-this-cancer-and-make-it-look-like nothing routine. What else ya got?"

New one? Not so much.....

So I've been thinking I need/want to post a new blog. But not much about my faith and my God-journey has been on my mind except what I blogged about most recently. Prayer. Not just prayer, but the power of prayer. What it does. What God does.

We all know that prayer usually has two purposes: to say to God, "Pretty Please" or "Thanks Man!" I try to say thanks more than I say please...well...just because. It seems like the right thing to do, right? Jeremy and I pray before every meal, something my family never did when I was growing up, with the exception of Thanksgiving. I don't like to be the one in charge of the praying because I'm not sure what to say, I'm worried if I'll sound stupid in front of Jeremy and think that I could never pray as well as him. I'm taking baby steps with the out loud dinner praying. Presently, I'm only in charge of dinner-praying when we eat out at Valentino's, my fav. guilty pleasure Italian buffet. However, since it's my fav. we go there about once a week.

When he and I both pray, we always first thank God for our meal. Jeremy does it because he believes God provides us with all our food, I Thank God for our food because that's what Jeremy does. :)

God didn't make that pizza for me, he didn't made the dough, cook the tomatoes, brown the meat. He didn't even grow the vegetables on his farm. Yes, some of you may say, OH YES HE DID! HE GAVE US THIS EARTH TO GROW FOOD!....Whatever. Why I am not thanking God for Earth before breakfast then, instead of for my pancakes?

All this babbling comes down to a few small thoughts: The reason why I am on this journey; seeking, asking, studying, reading, is because I want to KNOW why I believe what I do, I want proof, I want reasons behind it, I don't want to praise God because that's the norm, or because I'm afraid to go to hell or afraid to do anything else, I want to praise God because I have learned about God and talked to Christians and decided that's what I believe.

That's my little issue with prayer: I don't want to pray just because that's what good Christian people do. I want to KNOW why I pray. I want to KNOW why I thank God for things that God may not give me, directly, indirectly, in any way.

I imagine that my asking this question is becoming a bit redundant, my apologies. I suppose I am just not hearing or seeing or finding a sufficient answer to my questions. Yet.

How do I know?

Ever since we found out that my mom had a tumor in her lung the massive amount of prayers began. From me, my husband, immediate family, extended family, friends and people that have never met my amazing mother.

We were hoping for the best but preparing and thinking about the worst. It's hard not to think of the worst when symptoms she was having (chest pains) usually are indicative of late stage lung cancer. Assuming because if your tumor is big and bad enough to cause you to have chest pains, it's bad news. This was verified by the research I have done online saying chest pains are signs of late stage cancer. With this, and the fact that during the first meeting with her oncologist, he was worried her lung fluid might have cancer, which would put her in stage 3-B, pretty much a death sentence....it is safe to say we were terrified.

So, we prayed. Everyone did. I made several facebook and email requests for everyone and their dog to pray for her and our family. Good news! We need good news! We prayed for a small tumor. We prayed for an early stage. We prayed for no spreading. We prayed surgery could remove it and cure her. We prayed for the doctors and the nurses to take care of her. We prayed her heart was healthy enough to handle removing her tumor and we prayed for a successful surgery and recovery. So far, against ALL odds, all of our prayers have come true. (Lung cancer is the number one of cancer deaths and the has the second worse prognosis after pancreatic.)

Since I am on this Faith-journey, prayer has been a central part of my life, so has the question of prayer. I desperately want to believe that all of our prayers to God has helped him help her. But a part of me wonders if we just got lucky. I know this is a conversation we all have, I had it a little while ago in a blog as a matter of fact. I feel like if I attribute this amazing news to God, I'm being naive.

Maybe us getting such great news time after time is God trying to shake me saying, "Sara! Look! I'm trying to show you! I'm trying to prove to you! Open your eyes and pay attention! You ask all the time to see me and know me and want a sign that I am here and listening, here it is!" But how do I know?

Flash forward....

So, my mom has cancer. Yeah, you know that. Well, a week ago today, she had major surgery to remove part of her lung that her cancer was at. I've spent the last week, seven days, taking care of her. I would be at the hospital the majority of the time, with my step-dad coming to relieve me for some time during the day. I knew I would be the one taking care of her, but I think she and I both were surprised by the amount of work recovery would be. She was in the hospital from last Wednesday until Monday and then came to my house until this afternoon for me to care for her. While I woke up in the middle of the night to check on her, helped her to the bathroom, helped her shower, made her tea, cooked her soup, I couldn't help but wonder if this was a picture of what was to come.

I am my mom's only daughter, and as her only daughter it is assumed that I will be the primary caretaker of her and my step-father as they age and need assistance. I am honored to be the one to care for them. Honestly, I would be jealous and angry if anyone else tried to take that job away from me. No one knows my mom like I do, and with that said I don't believe anyone can take care of her like I can. However, with the tiny glimpse I've had this week with her pretty much needing me for every little thing she did, It's fair to say I've had the shizzz scared out of me. It is hard. And when I say hard I mean HARD. It is low down dirty frustrated teary-eyed nasty no-sleep hard. I did not want my mom to go back to her house today because I worry my step-dad won't give her enough attention, or be gentle enough or patient enough like I can be, but on the other hand, when she walked out the door I found myself wanting to do a happy dance and jump for joy. That makes me feel guilty.

I can deal with the cooking of the soup and the oatmeal and the hot tea. I can deal with the middle of the night calls to get help to the bathroom or more water. I can not deal with my mom being dependent. My mom is the epitome of independence. And for that to change, is scary. I have ran to my mom for everything in my life, depending on her shoulder, her advice, her care, and I do not want to be my mother's mother.

If I become my mother's mother, then I feel I no longer have a mother. And I need her. I hope the time when I need to be her permanent care giver is wayyyyy off into the future. So far off that I'll need MY daughter to care for the both of us, because I'll be so old right along with her. Ahhhh, that would be nice.....