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In
one sense I wish I could take away your pain, but I don’t want
your pain.
So I silently walk down the hall and say a prayer for you.
I wish I could take your hurt away, make everything all right, give
you
hope
in the middle of the night, or have some divine insight – on
how long this
journey will last for you.
If I could make it all better I wouldn’t feel guilty that my
bed is at home
while yours is a hard cot brought in by a stranger in blue.
Is it wrong to be happy that I am not you?
If I thank God for the gift of another day is it still the same?
Do you curse God while I praise him, or do you still pray to him
and love
him more as the days grow long?
He is with you and so am I – it is often said that we’ll
understand it all
better by and by…
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