I went to see a friend in the hospital yesterday. She was there for her husband, who's been battling Leukemia the last 8 months (they got married only 10 months ago). My visit was a rare and special one because the hospital is 100 miles away and Daniel needs our car a lot for business. But someone else needed me to drive their car down, Eddy had a birthday party to attend in that town, and we just happened to know a couple driving back to Eau Claire from there yesterday afternoon. All the pieces fell into place and I went down.

I didn't know what I would do or say, exactly, just that I should go. I hadn't heard much from her, and I wanted to give her strength, if I could, just by being there, doing the best I could to help carry the emotional burden, helping her open up. Letting her know I was praying...I don't know. I wanted to help somehow. Perhaps I did. But I know she helped me.

We sat in a window lined lobby as rain pelted down on the gray downtown streets outside. She was exhausted. Very little sleep, catching up with work, and trauma can do that to a person. We talked about all sorts of things, caught up, and discussed things on our minds. Sometimes we just sat there. I began to open up to some burdens on my mind, and when I did I was returned not with the expected nod or condolences, but cutting words of wisdom. Words of experience. Words of gold. She had seen the fire and realized God was still there. He didn't always make sense, but He doesn't have to.  It helped that she has a "high ambiguity tolerance"--kinda straightens out my over-calculating tainted perfectionism =) Eventually we left, me to my schedule, she to her sleep. But as I darted through the chilly rain, my mind was full. I knew more how to pray for my friend, and I knew more how to live life. I felt at once shame, and gratitude, and sorrow, and purpose. My friend had given me perhaps more than I gave her.

This experience drives me to prayer, to guarding my thoughts, to selfless obedience. I can't explain it well, but I thank and pray for my dear friend.