Tired of the Sick

It began with a simple prayer request at breakfast on Tuesday.

Every morning I read to my littles while they eat. We learn about Jesus. We talk about our day. We share what we are thankful for and then we pray. “Remember,” I said, my voice starting to shake, “To pray for little Andrew. He has chemo in 2 days again, and his hair is starting to fall out and…” I choked on the last bit of what I was going to say, because I couldn’t say anymore. I was too nauseated, overwhelmed by the visceral reaction as I knew… KNEW… what that was like, especially for my dear friends.

Asher spoke up. “It’ll be hard on his family, won’t it, Mom?” I nodded.

Then my Bear, oh my Bear, spoke up. “You lost your hair, too. But look at your hair now, Mommy. I don’t remember you bald, but I remember your long hair wig. That was my favorite.” Those dimples get. me. every. time.

Asher cocked his head at me, “Will you grow your hair long again?”

I told him I didn’t know. My hair was different now. It had grown in thinner, curlier, darker… just different. “Do you want me to grow it long again?” I asked.

He nodded emphatically. Then he stared deep into me, those soulful brown eyes that seem to see into every recess of my being, “If you grow it long again, will we have our old mommy back?”

The tears I had been trying so hard to hold in spilled over as the agony of their life hit me. “Oh, Ash,” I whispered, “You know,” I paused as Bear leaned his head on my shoulder, “This cancer has changed me. It’s changed all of us. But I’m still Mommy, and who knows? Perhaps when I get through these next few weeks, I will finally start getting stronger and things will be better than they ever were!”

Ash nodded, chewing thoughtfully, “I was five when you got sick. I don’t remember much about you from before the sick.” He sighed, and then his eyes pooled with tears, “I’m really tired of the sick, Mom.”

The rest of that morning is a blur. I know I got them ready for school and out the door. I know I stood at the window and waved and blew kisses and we all signed “I love you” like we do every day. I know I dressed Bella and got her snack, and then when I had a moment, I went upstairs in the hallway and I screamed a silent scream, and I stomped and I cried and I curled up into a ball and I hated cancer all over again.

I hated it with every fiber of my being.

I hated what it had done to my family. I hated it for what it had done to my husband who has given up everything for me–his music, his ministries, his time, his hobbies, his energy. I hated it for what it had done to my children–my Ash who is grappling to understand how this could happen to his mommy, to Bear who is scared to leave my side and cries at the drop of a hat, to Bella who won’t even go to her father most days because she wants to be with me. I hated it for what it had done to my parents who ache and grieve and suffer emotional scars that I will never see. I hated it for what it had done to me–the physical pain I feel and scars I see every day, the emotional and mental fatigue that never seems to stop, the spiritual battles that have stripped my arsenal bare.

I hated 2 1/2 years of suffering, because y’all, I’m really tired of the sick, too. And in all honesty, I feel like everyone around me must be tired of the sick, too, because caring, and I mean really caring, for the needy is exhausting work.

I had read to my children that morning about Jesus healing multitudes of people and how compassionate He is, but how better yet He forgave sin. I’ve been chewing on that and clinging to that for the past two days, because I can really only chew on small bites of much of anything these days (be it my Bible, books, audio sermons, or music) without becoming a total and complete mess.

Then today I heard my Bella singing her made up songs in her room. Today’s treasure?

“God you are here. In my room. You stay awake so I can sleep and you smile when I play with my prin-cess-es. God I love you and you love me and you aren’t tired of me.”

Y’all, I am so very tired of the sick, but I’m so very thankful that my God never tires of me.

And don’t ask me how just yet, but I think, no, I know my kids are going to get through this the better for it.

10 responses to “Tired of the Sick”

  1. Hmm. Still goes blurry.

    I can’t begin to imagine how you must feel, but I’m always inspired to read how you can always see how gracious God is in the midst of what the world can only see as horrible. I don’t know what purpose He has in all this, but I can easily imagine the good work He does through you. I’m always amazed to see God at work. Thank you for your transparency and I praise God for the amazing strength He has given you to do His work.


  2. I don’t think that anyone who has not gone through this can completely understand the many different ways cancer affects your lives. I am so sorry that you are going through this. I am so sorry that I am not there to give you a hug and let you scream into my shoulder.

    Cancer is horrid. Just plain horrid. I hope that you are over this, Angie. I pray it.


  3. I can barely let me self truly absorb your words – but then I force myself to do it; it is the least I can do. My heart is heavy for you and I thank God for making himself known to you through your Bella this morning.


  4. Sweet, dear Friend,

    Oh how I, along with your loved ones, long for the day when your cancer and its devastating effects will be no more…Thank you once again for being so honest and real while clinging to our precious Lord and Savior.

    Praying for you daily and love you dearly..


  5. Jesus loves them more that we do. (your kids have had to suffer some Angie, but they are happy children, loved by so many, so many people love all of you. It is really very good that Asher is expressing himself, that he feels safe too, that he feels you are strong enough that he can tell you how he is feeling) I will be praying for you all over these next weeks. I know you are not feeling too good with the thyroid med cut off, etc. We will pray for good news, and happy smiles on the Davis’ faces!



  6. you ever realize that at 2 a.m. things just strike you harder and deeper? that is, i guess, if you’re awake 😉 Lucky for you, I am. So anyway, here it goes… (I’ll try to make you laugh, though you may cry too.) Your blog but more than that, YOU mean so much to and I truly don’t know what i’d do without you in my life. You are honest. fun. funny (i remember skyping you when you were packing up all those vases of yours, so funny). You are smart and compassionate and just really real. You are a faithful servant to Jesus and the past 2 1/2 has been a true testimony of life of clinging to Him. You encourage me to show grace to others and myself. To look beyond myself and my situation and look toward Christ who is the head of all things. I am so in love with your kids. I love your husband and I love your parents too. So, thank you for being here for me, through and through, even while your life is flipped upside down and your struggles are heavy, almost unbearable. Thank you for the scrabble games, I’m not sure I would have made it through grad school without the drive to try to beat Angie in scrabble…we know how well that went?!? Thank you for being my friend, my bible study leader, my peer and my sister in Christ. I love you and I’m praying for you…and I will continue to no matter where this next chapter in my life takes me. Oh and I agree, somehow and someway, you are all going to be better for it…I know I already am because all this has given me the chance to get to know you and well, I am blessed beyond what i deserve!


  7. Oh lady, I just love you. I feel for you. I sat here and cried through this and told my husband how much you mean to me. The whole pen pal thing.

    We both know (in different ways) that sometimes it’s OK to just say THIS HURTS. THIS IS SO HARD. I HATE THIS.

    I’m a silent screamer too. sometimes I think we just need an empty house or car to scream and cry in. And a punching bag. A very big punching bag.

    Praying for peace,


  8. judieyoung@hotmail.com Avatar

    My sweet one,

    The trials that we go through to make us into His image are not joyful, but sorrowful, but the outcome is the beauty of His image. My dear one, I watch this molding of you and this verse is so pronounced. May you be blessed as you hear your new life proclaimed by Him.

    2 Corinthians 4:8-10 – We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair, persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed, always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body.

    You are a vessel in the Master’s hands, His workmanship created in Christ Jesus to good works.

    The potter is forming Christ in us, let’s rejoice together in this journey. I am standing with you in this great battle of faith.
    I love you dearly, Judie

    2 Corinthians


  9. Overwhelming.

    This needs to be published.

    I don’t have a way to express my thoughts on what you just shared. Your have a blessed family – even in the midst of the pain – you all are blessing others.


  10. Beautiful and heart-wrenching. My heart aches for you, but I trust in our Father who has you, has us all, in His large and capable hands. And you’re right. He never tires of us. {{HUG}}


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: