Still running for the cheese (or why this blog still exists)

As my regular readers can tell, this has been a dry year for me. Just look at the number of posts this year vs. 2008! Awhile back, I had considered either shutting down the Maze, or starting a new blog that would more accurately reflect where I am in life now. Truth be told, sometimes I come here, look around, and feel distinctly hypocrytical about the things I want to write. I'm sure I'm not the only one to ever be in that kind of place.
As the time in between posts has grown longer, I came to realize something. Without the past years' material, where I am now makes very little sense. What good is the destination without the journey? As Christians, so much of the best stuff that happens to us is in the times God is molding us to His image. To throw away the evidence of that process would somehow cheapen the result, I think.
So, here we are, dear friends. I think my little mousie may just have rounded a corner finally. Some things will change around here to reflect the changes in my heart. And you know what? That's ok. As much as I typically rage against anything changed in my life, I'm learning to accept the God-given ones. My prayer is that some of you may be encouraged by what you read here. Hey, you may even be challenged. And of course, if you know me, then you know you always stand a good chance of being offended too. Not intentionally, to be sure! Just know that what you find as you wander this Maze with me may surprise you as much as it does me.

All that to say this:

Welcome to

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Heart and soul.

A week and a half ago, our lives changed forever. My husband, my heart and soul, was hospitalized for 4 days. He was diagnosed tentatively with cardiomyopathy, and congestive heart failure. Prayerfully, we will find out more when he has an angiogram which will be scheduled at his cardiologist appointment later this month.
While I believe with everything in me that God only gives what we can handle, and that He has a plan far greater than our own, I admit I am having an incredibly difficult time facing this. I'm terrified, as is Mr. P. I'm angry, not only at myself, but at God. These last 7 years have been trying for us, both as a couple and as a family. God must think we are super strong people. Personally, I have my doubts.
It's hard to face the future, knowing nothing more about my husband's diagnosis other than it is not reversible, and that it will shorten his life span. I've always been the kind of person who needs to know, even if only vaguely, what the future brings. Not my best quality, to be sure. The thought of losing Mr. P. really spikes fear into my heart. I know he is probably sick of me constantly asking him if he's ok, and telling him how much I love him. I heard this song on the radio while running errands with the kids today. I was unable to curb the urge to call home and tell Mr. P. just that. Just to make sure he knows not only does he have my heart, but that he is my heart.
I think of the 2 friends I have who are widows, and how I've admired them so much for their strength. Staring into that possible future makes me wonder if it came to that, would I be as strong as them? Could I hold it together for our kids? And would I ever be able to forgive God? I just don't know. Fear is speaking now, even though I know fear is not of God.
This all seems so much to bear, especially for a little family who has already endured so much. So many of our friends and family have said if they can do anything for us, we need only to ask. I wish I could just ask, and have them take all of this away. I wish I could just ask, and have them make everything magically better. I know it doesn't work that way, but oh how I wish it did. I worry about what else God feels like dumping on us, what more He thinks we can handle.
My mind cannot think of an eloquent way to close this post out. It's late, and my fear and sadness are overwhelming tonight. If you think of us, please pray. Maybe God will hear you more than He hears me right now.

Til next squeak,

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