Broken and empty

Another blog I don't know how to write but yet feel the need to do so anyway. 

The past few weeks have been hard. Really hard. Watching dad suffer sucks. Seeing the amount of pain he is in despite the morphine is painful. If I could, I would gladly take his pain myself to give him comfort in his last few days. Dealing with family drama is unwelcome and unneeded but yet it is coming up. Yet, every day I put on this fake smile and I go about my day. I pretend like everything is okay  

Yet, what many don't realize is that so often the times I get up and walk away from my desk it is because I'm not holding it together anymore. When I go home at night, I sit on the couch and find it so hard to want to do anything. I feel like I haven't my been myself at all the past few weeks. I feel empty and broken inside.

Last week during some quite time I just confessed to The Lord my emptiness. I cried out that I have nothing left to give. Then I was reminded of the story of Jesus feeding the 5000. We tend to focus on the miracle-which is pretty amazing. But I was drawn to the little boy in the story.

This little boy has just 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish. And Jesus wants to feed 5000 men, plus women and children with this boy's food. Talk about feeling empty and having nothing to give! I feel like that boy. What I have to offer emotionally seems so insignificant. Yet, my reminder was that in Jesus' hands, that emptiness can do so much.

So I continue to cling to hope during this time. Hope because I know of my dad's faith. Hope because I know that this too shall pass; I will start to feel like myself again one day. Hope because dad's suffering will end. Hope because I know he will live on through me.

There's hope but for now, it just sucks.