A Time For Everything

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Yesterday my sister was admitted to the hospital. In July she battled pancreatitis for two weeks while trapped inside the sanitized walls. Her doctor released her because they could find nothing to cause the issue, and she was slowly working her way back to health.

Since then, she has been fighting with daily nausea, vomiting, and stomach pain. She hasn’t had one day where she felt completely healthy, and I haven’t had one day without worry for her.

People keep asking me if I’m okay, and my answer every time has had two parts. Yes, but no.

Today, after a tearful breakdown, I realized that there is nothing wrong with my feelings. I’m constantly working on trusting God in the storm, but God has been really showing me that it’s okay to be hurt when lightening strikes.

God gave me feelings for a reason, and I’m allowed to feel them. Ecclesiastes 3 is one of my all time favorite chapters. When horrible things sweep me off my feet, I often attack myself. Why should I be sad when God commands me to be joyous?

There is a time for everything,
 and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die,
 a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,
 a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

a time to search and a time to give up,
 a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,
 a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,
 a time for war and a time for peace.

Of course this is true, but Ecclesiastes 3 says there is a time for everything, even a time to weep. Mourning is a natural part of the recovery process. If I didn’t take time to let out my emotions, I would be a walking robot on the verge of explosion.

Yesterday, I tried my absolute hardest to wear a mask. By the end of the day, I was exhausted from pretending. In my head I was convinced that I needed to be positive so that I could continue shining God’s light. Today I’m realizing that God understands my sadness; he’s even weeping along with me. His heart aches for my troubles, and he understands exactly how I feel.

Today, I am set free knowing that I can take my time to sort out these feelings. I won’t be a ball of sunshine, and I’m okay with that. So is God. This does not mean I should dwell deeply on everything that is going wrong. I’m trusting fully in God. I know that things are painful, but there is a plan. When I am taking my time to mourn, I’m not going to lose sight of that.

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