The title of my blog is called "Roxanne's Journey" but truthfully it should be called "Carl & Roxanne's Journey". Sometimes, in fact, I think it could be called "Carl's Journey" for it seems, often, he has the rougher part of the walk.
I know for any husband, it is very difficult, to be unable to "fix" a problem for his wife. And Carl is no exception. Through the years, no matter what falls apart, he's been able to take care of it. But this time it's different and He has said so many times "I wish I could take this way from you."
Some things along the journey are not so difficult to take care of. He listens to my physical complaints. He fusses at me when I won't take time out to rest. He makes sure the doctor has all the information, lest I try to make light of something. He goes to all the treatments. He makes sure the grandkids don't try to climb up on "granny" when they are sick or I'm not supposed to be lifting. He figures out the bills when the income is less from being out of work. And his list goes on and on.
But it's the things he can't do that make the journey difficult for him. He can't take away the cancer. He can't take away my fears. He can't take away his own fears. Yet, he is a wise man. He never says "everything will be fine." He only says "I love you and I will be here for you." Isn't that how Christ is with us?
Last week, when I had battled the unending headache and it's "what ifs" and the upcoming oncologist's visit, I seemed to feel as though that gave me an excuse to take it out on Carl. I had very little to say to him all day and when it got too quiet, I complained that he didn't have anything to say to me! A "feel sorry for myself and take it out on Carl" knee -jerk response. Why is it that the ones who love us the most, seem to bear the brunt of our frustrations?
Later that evening, (probably when Carl felt it was safe to talk without a confrontation) he said to me "you know, we're on the same team. I'm not the bad guy." And I broke down, so sorry that I had treated the one who loves me most with the least amount of concern.
But Carl's love for me is just as Christ said a man should love his wife. Unconditionally. He took me in his arms and loved me, even as unlovable as I seemed at the time. Oh, how incredibly thankful I am for Carl's unconditional love and his unwavering strength when mine seems gone.
No, I don't walk through this desert alone. Carl and I journey together. Still, we are not alone. For God walks right along with us. And together, the three of us will journey safely out of the desert and into the promised land.