If you follow us on Facebook, you know we have been praying for Meg, a friend of Amy’s who was diagnosed with cancer while pregnant with her second daughter. Just a few, too short weeks ago, she found out that her cancer was back, stage 4, aggressive.
Elle is 5. Baby Cora is four months. Sam is their daddy.
I don’t know Meg. But I know Amy and Amy’s heart was broken at this news. That was enough for me and Dana. We rallied the prayers for Meg. My good friend Steffani called on her homeschool prayer chain and the big guns at our church.
The disease moved quickly. Yesterday, Amy called to say the end was near. We asked for help to pray Meg Home. Two hours later, she was gone, leaving her suffering and her fear behind her.
But also her young husband and her two little girls, one old enough to feel this pain and the other too young to remember anything.
It makes me really, really mad. It hits very close to home for me, for Dana, for Amy. It’s hard to know what to do.
We can rage at the heavens. We can curl into ourselves, or push the story away from us and those we love. We can turn from the suffering of strangers, sad but relieved that it was someone else.
We can pray. We can witness. Not in a train wreck kind of way, but we can take a moment to acknowledge the grief that Meg’s family is feeling right now.
We can donate in Meg’s name to places dedicated to conquering this bullshit disease. We can honor those we have lost and those who have survived.
We can remember that suffering is a universal condition. We can do today what we want strangers to do when it is our turn.
Tonight, I am going to lift up Meg’s family in prayers for comfort.
I’m going to lift up Amy and her sister Ashley and their family in prayers for peace.
I’m going to lift up my own anger and give it to God. He knows what to do with it.
I am going to give thanks for the women and men who showed up in prayer for a stranger.
It’s the least I can do for a sister mama gone too soon.