So yesterday in Church we dusted off "On the Banks of the River of Babylon...". Lent is soon here, and I have echoes of Bridegoom matins services already echoing through my head: "Oh my soul, why are you slee-eeping?"
Except, I'm NOT...or at least I don't think I am. Spiritual sleep is not the issue for me on this cancer journey. Yes, all of life has become "the Cancer Journey". It fills EVERYTHING. It tinges every joy, it enhances every sorrow.
It feels like exile.
And while I am in a better, more hopeful place than I was a year ago, when I felt like Wes would die any second, it is STILL exile.
Today I am full of tears once again.
I wonder if this is how the exiles felt? Taken captive from their homeland, awakened and weeping at their loss. At first, perhaps, it was with the looming certainty of death...but then time settles in and there's a new-not-so-great life to be lived...in exile.
This cancer journey feels like exile. And some days, I want to weep.