Last year a friend’s husband was diagnosed with stage-four cancer. He had to go through an intense round of chemotherapy, was very ill and the future was unknown. My heart reached out to the family as I could clearly understand the trial they were facing. Part of me wanted to call and offer my help or just a listening ear. Another part of me (the part that won over) did not.
Do people want to see me… ME… when their husband is sick? I felt like seeing me is a big reminder of what could be. I did not feel as though I would bring hope – I would bring a gray cloud. I thought about them and prayed for them every day. Mid-summer I ran into my friend. I gave her a hug and inquired to how they were all holding up. I let her know how much I thought of them and prayed for them. I was grateful for that moment.
Her husband’s health has gotten better and he just recently returned to work.
There is something unjust about being in a position where you want to help, but because of who you are and what you are – feeling as though your presence would not be a lift to their spirits.
Do people want to see me… ME… when their husband is sick? I felt like seeing me is a big reminder of what could be. I did not feel as though I would bring hope – I would bring a gray cloud. I thought about them and prayed for them every day. Mid-summer I ran into my friend. I gave her a hug and inquired to how they were all holding up. I let her know how much I thought of them and prayed for them. I was grateful for that moment.
Her husband’s health has gotten better and he just recently returned to work.
There is something unjust about being in a position where you want to help, but because of who you are and what you are – feeling as though your presence would not be a lift to their spirits.
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