I feel like someone hijacked my life.
Just took it. Took my children. Took my clothes. Took my house. And unlike most people, I LIVED and LOVED my life. I was thankful and grateful everyday. Honestly. I would wake up and just be thankful for my life so this was definitely not a lesson I needed.
I also worked hard to get this life. I had to WORK for it and I did. So hard work can’t be the lesson. I didn’t get things handed to me. Not one bit. I put in the hours.
And here I am crying and I hear a strange sound in the clinic.
Oh right! You don’t know that we are still in the clinic. We will be here until 9PM waiting for a bed to open up on the in-patient side. So we all are in a cubicle of a room. Benno, Jacob, Steve, me, and Mema all in our “bat cave” (that’s what Jacob calls it). We just sit for hours. Everyday. Sitting. Talking. Sitting. Reading. Watching. Sitting. Watching life go by.
And then the sound. I was the only one who heard it. They were trying to be subtle the nurses as I watched their walks become more like jogs. I peaked out and I saw it. A child being rushed away with a bag over its mouth and everyone running.
And all of a sudden the sitting doesn’t feel so bad. I’m thankful again. SO THANKFUL. And I look around and I wouldn’t change a thing. I got my crew here. I got everything I need in this cubicle and aren’t we lucky we got a window room today. That was lucky. And Jacob looks good. Really good.
And then I feel ashamed. Why is that one’s good fortune only relative to another’s misfortune? Why is that?
Suffering for the progress of others.
Please God don’t let Jacob suffer.