Sometimes you have to lie.
Facing pain and death, the person you're caring for sometimes has to hear that you believe that they can make it, that there's still hope.
Even if your heart says there isn't.
Lie.
Because we can't do this alone, any of us.
I need you, friend, to tell me
that things will come out right,
that there will be a new bright day
beyond this endless night.
I need the focus of your mind
to judge, and make the call
that there's no final truth behind
the writing on the wall.
I need your hand upon my shoulder,
a quick firm squeeze to make it clear
that even though the times grow colder
you will still be here.
I ask this most of all, dear friend,
reassurance that it's not the end.
Music from Breathe, with the somewhat paradoxical Don't Tell Me Lies.
Thanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.
Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.
Marley, the canine waif from Afghanistan, whom WE helped save, has a Facebook page! Please drop by to see how happy he is today.
Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links.
Andrew, I'm praying for you, my friend. I'm lifting you up to our Father, the One who loves you most. And though things look dark here, and they feel darker, this IS NOT THE END. Sending you a very gentle hug.
ReplyDeleteJeanne, thank you so much for this...the prayers, and especially the hug. Badly needed.
DeleteIf someone told you year ago that you would still be here today they might have thought they were lying, but you have lasted far longer than anyone would have guessed. Maybe God hasn't let you go home yet because you keep inspiring us here.
ReplyDeleteJan, I'm so honoured by your words and thoughts...the odds are defied daily, and not by me.
DeleteThank you for this.
(((((Andrew)))))
ReplyDelete(((((Barbara)))))
Andrew, you were "terminal" when I first found you on Kara Tippetts' Mundane Faithfulness. You've been here through my brother's leukemia diagnosis and his Homegoing five years ago. You've been here through my dear college friend's pancreatic cancer diagnosis and her Homegoing one year ago.
As others have said, "Who'd-a thunk?" Your journey has been unprecedented.
When you're ready, go Home. Until you're ready, stay here.
Annie in Texas
((((((Annie!))))))
DeleteIt's something I truly don't understand myself. It's been something of a record, and the doctor I can no longer afford to see wants to write a paper about it.
Me, I'm just glad to be here, and enjoying every day.