Prayers For A Little Boy

My blog post today is not a happy one because my heart is sad. And I need to share why.

Today, when I was coming out of radiation, I walked past a room and saw a little boy lying on a stretcher. He looked to be about 7 or 8 years old. He was so pale and so tired. But what struck me the hardest was the look in his eyes as I caught his glance. It was the look that tugs at every mother's heart. It said "I hurt and I am sick. Please help me feel better". His mom and dad were by his side stroking his arm, trying to comfort him as he silently lay there. The father had turned off the lights for the little boy, perhaps to minimize a headache, while they waited for radiation.

Right there in the middle of the hallway, I wanted to cry and yell at the same time. I thought of Dylan and Jayda, two of my precious grandchildren, close to that age. They were probably at school right now, running and playing and laughing on the playground, like children that age are supposed to do. Later, they would go to football practice, or baseball practice or cheerleading. They would laugh, they would run, they would jump, they would get dirty. That's what children do. Not This!!

I tried to keep myself together long enough to see the radiation oncologist. As soon as I was finished and left for my car, I had a meltdown. I sobbed. My tears flowed for that sweet little boy and his pain. For his mommy and daddy and their helplessness.

I was angry. My anger, directed at this awful disease. My parents always taught us that "hate" is a strong word. Well, I HATE CANCER!! I HATE that it robs little children of the joy of life. I HATE that it breaks the hearts of loving parents.

As I drove home, my tears continued to flow. Tears for my dad, for my mom, for John, for Eddie, for Jenny. For so many I have loved and lost to this disease. And I did the only thing I know to do when sadness overwhelms me. I cried out to Jesus. I didn't ask for understanding. For I am not even capable, in my humanness, of understanding His divine plan. I simply asked Him to bring peace and comfort to that sweet little boy and his parents. To hold them securely in His arms. To pick them up and carry them when the journey road becomes to rough. And, in His time, to gently place them on the other side.

I don't know this little boy's name. But it was no accident that he touched my heart in such a powerful way, with just a short glance at each other. I wanted to ask of you who are reading this post, that before you close your eyes tonight, please, could you whisper a prayer for him and his mommy and daddy? I don't know exactly how, but I do know, that God will hear our prayers, for that sweet little boy, and answer them.