When We are Hurt Most

Sad news greeted me this morning. And I felt my heart breaking for a friend. Some days, we just get to cry with them; some days we get to do it afar and cry and say prayers for them.

I met M in my first days in Elbi. Me and V met her at the Infirmary, we were all scheduled the same day to undergo the medical exams. The university figured, since the three came from the same region, they could probably lump us together so we won't feel too.. well, foreign.

And it worked. We have been friends since.

M has been struggling with a pain in her abdomen the last year. She's been with a number of doctors, went through a series of tests and procedures, and always took home an indefinite diagnosis. It was a puzzle to the medical staff. 

But today, she went home with not just one but two, heartbreaking results.

M wrote "It was just too much for a frail human heart to take in. It still is. " 

Breaks your heart to feel her pain. Sometimes, when I read her posts or her YMs and emails, I try my best to not cry. You know, put up a brave front for her. But there are days, when it just gets to you.

She went on to write about her doubts, her fears and her questions. The prayers she say and the questions she raise, what will you say to a friend when you have no words to comfort such pain?

On those days when my world was on the end, as I know it, M was always there to give a hug, a joke or a good slap in the head. She was always there to share a pizza with me and join the dumpling pig-outs. And though we didn't openly talk about my pain, she played a major role in cleaning this heart of bitterness.

And of all the things I need to do this week, all I can ever think about is to find a way to get this hug across the ocean.

But... we can only comfort each other through mail and our blogs. It isn't much, but it's the closest to a good hug.

And I wish it can be enough. I pray it can be enough.

So, as M continues to battle this crazy diagnosis, her doubts, her pain, she writes to continue her fight. She writes to continue to pray-- to not just embrace the pain and accept the confusion, she will turn it into something greater, something to glorify our Creator's name.

It amazes me how this woman of soft mush is really made of the strongest steel. Her faith is unwavering. She may be beaten, down on the floor a couple of rounds, but she isn't giving up. Not just Yet. Probably not ever.

And we get to think, for us, who have gotten second shots at things and at life, let's just be thankful every morning, every waking moment of the day. 

Love the life we have been lent for a time, and hope that we can be as much as a friend could ever be.