I have a friend lying over in Bethesda Naval Hospital who is surrounded by people who will be ecstatic if he survives today...If today, in his fight for life, he doesn’t lose ground.
In recent days they’ve been hoping for more than that. They've been hoping to see him open his eyes, to see recognition dawn on him. They've been longing to see him smile one more time. Wouldn't it be something to hear him laugh again?
Hopes can soar if we let them, but when we're scared and desperate, we don't dare.
Right about now, he's undergoing brain surgery.
So today, they’ll hope for a lot less, and they'll be so thankful if they get it.
Today they just want his heart to keep beating...
They want his chest to continue to rise and fall...
They want all the numbers on the monitors to stay in a range he can live with.
That’s all they’ll ask for, all they’ll hope for, all they'll look for.
After today, when tomorrow comes, they just might allow themselves to hope for a tiny bit more...but not too much...we don't dare hope for too much...let's not even think about tomorrow yet.
Why do we think it works this way?
Are we all just walking around hedging our bets? Cutting deals?
It sure feels like we are....
His daddy told me he'd switch places with him if only he could...anything to trade to see his boy up and healthy again. Actually anyone who knows my friend would pitch in for that....
It's gotta work differently than we think it does, than we act like it does. There's got to be something more to it, more of a reason, more of a purpose, more of a plan.
Still, even with my penchant for hope, I'll be ecstatic today to hear he's still in the fight.
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