...and so I ask for your prayer

Still recovering from a rough flight into Tampa, my stomach knots and churns and a fever fades in and out. Tired, but desperate to feed my soul, I force myself to stay up and write to God. Nothing but an open door and a few feet of hall separate my grandma's room from the pull-out I'm sleeping on. Her cries of pain seem all to familiar-'didn't I hear these cries, consequences of the same process by which my dad had suffered only 3 years ago in my house?'

At peace? Yes. But then why is it so hard? Why am I so surprised, yet again, by the reality of death? Lord God, it hurts to hear her like this and be so helpless. It hurts that for the other 5 people in the house reality is where it ends. I can't take away this family's pain but God please send me the opportunity to comfort them with your love and your wisdom.

Again I must pause and remind myself-her cancer and their salvation is out of my hands and far beyond me. As God faithfully answers my own prayers and humbles me, I look to Jesus and to you to keep us in your hearts.