Yesterday I lost another friend. She fell to cancer of the liver. I miss her already. I wanted her to live. I tried to encourage the fight within. I prayed and believed, but she is gone. It happened quickly. She didn’t suffer.
My heart feels the pain. I haven’t visited the family yet as they are preparing for her burial. I just need time to let my feelings settle down. I want to be a blessing to them, a strength in the time of this stormy moment.
There are no answers I find, as to why some live and some die. I’ve known and still know cancer survivors who have made it through, still living; my husband is one of those. Sometimes I wish I had answers for the many families I have encountered, but I don’t.
My friend is not suffering any more. She has crossed over. Her last conversation with me before she went home from the hospital: “Earth or heaven, either way I will be all right.”
I could see she was weaning. In my heart I refused to accept it, but life seemed to be draining from her body. Where do I go from here, Lord?
Strengthen me. Help me to stay the course. Again, I face the reality that we
don’t have control over death. It comes whether we are ready or not.
I find comfort in writing these feelings, sharing them, helps me to sort through. The tears won’t come yet, perhaps when I see her laying there, in the midst of everyone else, maybe then I can weep, or maybe not.
I have accepted the truth: life is like a vapor, now it’s here; now it’s gone. My desire is that when my time is finished that I would have served my fellow man with the gifts God has given me because in that I would have no regrets.
God, help me to be strong, comfort me, for I indeed am in need of comfort.
