In the stillness late at night
The silence presses in
The waiting room is darkened
Families sleep in chairs and couches
Hoping against hope that tonight will be the turning point

There may be others waiting too, but the only thing that matters
Is their patient, their family member’s prognosis.

Things are so clearly in focus in the foreground.
“This is all that matters”
(I can see it in their eyes)
But I see beyond
To the next day and the next
To others who are hurting and worried
To the possibilities they are not ready to entertain

And in the distance,
Blurred because they will not see,
Is the reality: Death comes to all.

I see it on their faces,
The silent prayers, the dried tears, the worry, the guilt.
I hear their expressions of confusion,
Listening as they pour out
The agony of intercession:
“Please God, not today.
Please God, give her another day.”

I understand.
I too have waited in pain and in worry.
It is hard to face the horrible truth
To grapple at night with the doctor’s words,
“the next 24 hours will be crucial.”

You don’t know how to pray
What to say
And you have no appetite
when your heart is so hopeful
Your dreams are so vivid
Your pain so overwhelming.

As I walk beside them in their waiting
I can’t change the day or time or diagnosis
I can listen
I can pray
I can hear their stories and watch with them
As the sun rises another day
And God greets them with the Promises
That are new every morning.
And dries their tears…

All My Tears by Julie Miller