Bad stuff happens to everyone. People lose children, siblings, health, the sanctity of their marriage. Finances crumble, friendships end, hopes die. And so there is nothing unique about pondering the likelihood of caring for my aging parents. There is nothing unique about feeling hollow and frightened that my brother died before I was quite used to his diagnosis. Still, a wise friend pointed out, its the first time its happened to me, and that makes it unique.
I, and my world, are forever changed. I want to navigate all this "properly", deal with stress appropriately, remember and rely on the one word that God impressed upon me some two years ago: REST. And so in ways I feel strong and determined.
But in other ways, I'm a stupid little kid in water wings, trying to swim upstream.