Last night as I was trying to wrap everything up and get to bed, I read a Facebook post that broke my heart. My husband’s cousin’s wife has cancer. Earlier, my sister-in-law told me her grandson, my great nephew, had to have surgery. And at work yesterday, my department manager told me that her daughter, who has a congenital liver condition, would not live a year without a liver transplant that she was unlikely to get, so she was going to try to be a live donor to her.
So much going wrong. Yesterday was a day of bad news. And all I can do for any of them is pray. Even though I’m here with my boss, I can’t help. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in prayer, and I have witnessed too many miracles to even entertain the idea that prayer doesn’t work. I know it does. But I ache to do more. More for them directly. I never see my relatives, and what do you say to your boss when she tells you her daughter is dying?
I’m a “Gimmie that and let me fix it!” person. When there is something wrong, that’s what I do, I fix it. And this is driving me nuts. The sad thing is, I have no idea what they could even begin to need. But I AM here, if nothing else.