Trusting the process

Sometimes it seems that it is so easy to go with the flow. Life fits comfortably, I look good in it and I can  mosy along at a pace that feels right. And then there's the rest of the time. When I first got clean it seemed that "the rest of the time" was 90% or more some times hovering closer to 99.9%. But over the last year it feels like more a pretty even split and there are even moments when I feel like it's dipped comfortably into that low 40 percentile range! After the Roundup this year it may have even gone into the 30's!! So when the "rest of the time", those moments when life feels like its wrinkled and unkempt...when it's binding and it looks like cheesy vintage wanna-be, flair up I get blindsided.
After my mom's accident in October I've been hanging in the high 50's of poop. I find the concept of self is more common than I would prefer. My problems suddenly seem greater than yours! It was if my mom's accident happened to me!!! I moped around for a couple of weeks wrapped in a couple layers of pity, fear and self. I forgot that it was not about me...in fact, I wasn't even there helping my mom. I sat at home criticizing my brother - criticizing his addiction and his rage and his self pity. Oh, how easy it is too see my own reflection while not even realizing that I'm holding a mirror.
But I digress...my mom left the hosital and moved to a physical rehab facility to help her learn how to walk again (seems she damaged the portion of the brain that processed her knowledge of walking) and after 3 weeks they sent her home. While this was going on my brother was doing what he could to help out (admittedly I was convinced he was pawning her belongings, running up her credit cards and other dastardly activities including smoking in her new car which she can't even drive...I know, I know what can I say?)  This past Monday she was taken back to the hospital...her speech slurred and she could barely get around with a walker. Today they did an MRI ans some other brain tests to find out whats happening and honestly it doesn't appear good.
These events paint a pretty unflattering picture of me I'm ashamed to admit. But there is some good news...honest. Slowly over the last couple of weeks I have realized that I was looking at my own character defects when I thought I was looking at my brother. Make no mistake he is no saint...but that son of a bitch is doing something! Whether he wanted to or not he has been a son to my mom. He has helped her out of bed and lifted her off the floor. He has taken her to the bathroom, the hospital and made her meals. He has been there when she cried and bitched and come to grips with her own mortality. I have a new respect for him. I even envy him for having the chance to help our mom. I have found a new humility too. This, though isn't about me...it's about my mom and about my brother. This is about putting my faith in God. This about trusting that God is letting this unfold the way He wants it to unfold. It's about acceptance. God will take care of my mom and when it is my turn to be there He will see to it that I go.