It is with a heavy heart that I write today’s post. I always encourage all to read the wonderful comments left here on the blog, from people literally around the world. These comments so often contain wisdom far beyond any I can deliver. There are times when these comments contain great sadness and messages of people in urgent need. So often there is really nothing we can do to help, but offer our prayers. The power of prayer is awesome more powerful than we can imagine. Please may we join together in offering our prayers. There is so much I could say but there is nothing more powerful than the messages contained in the comments themselves.
I give you the comment I recieved this morning from my dear blogging friend Jo:
I am asking for prayer requests for one of my dearest girlfriends. Her husband has gone missing at sea and we are now on day 5 of the search. They have found the boat, found his friends body, but still cannot find her husband Jason. I will attach the related article in the paper
I have spent the last 4 nights on her couch and watched with agony the pain at the thought of not being able to retrieve his body. To have found his mate John yet no signs of Jason is like torture. We have accepted that Jason has gone, but to not find his body is torture for his family. He leaves his wife Tanya & their two girls who are 4 & 6. Please the more prayers we have out there the better.
Bill I will write a more detailed email to you when I can, I was just wanting to get this prayer request out. We have to have a body, and theirs just no two ways about it.
I thank everyone for their help
Jo, I ask that you please keep me updated on things as they happen. You know all are in my prayers and in the prayers of many.
I now give you the comment left by my new blogging friend Sarah. Sarah and I have exchanged emails and I look forward to hearing more from her. Here is the comment left by Sarah:
Dear, dear dying man,
I am dying too. I’m 63 and female and a life-long smoker who is now predictably dying of lung cancer. I’ve had a turn with chemo and then a few short days with a biological agent called Tarceva which almost killed me. There’s nothing left but a more toxic chemo that the oncologist thinks I won’t survive.
I’m so sad this morning…so sad to be leaving my three grown children…my babies, my babies I cry at night. Some days I just want to be left alone to mindlessly watch the food network and let the Ativan keep me from screaming…other days I want to be held like a child and comforted. So far the treatments have made me feel worse than the cancer, but that will change. I remember laying motionless in bed after one of the chemos thinking I didn’t know people could feel that sick without dying…and yet now I know that was only a preview. I’m not afraid to die…I’m afraid of the suffering before it.
I’m sorry, dying man, I’m so sorry you are facing tenacious death at such a relatively young age.
I’m sorry our measure of life is not what we wanted it to be and that we always thought we had time. I’m sorry that your life is being interrupted right in the middle of your dreams, that your strength is being eroded just as you were about to use it to do that thing you always wanted to do but kept putting off. I’m sorry that no one lets you talk about it the way you want to. I’m just so sorry.
Sarah, I welcome and look forward to anything you may wish to share.
What more can I say, what more do I need to say. Other than to ask for prayers and messages of support.