May 8th, 2012
As I herded the massive display of balloons into the elevator, another passenger smiled and asked which floor.
"Ten, please" I replied.
These were going to a member of the Sheriff's department. Co-workers and friends contributed to the collection of balloons since flowers weren't allowed in this particular hospital unit. And I was performing my daily task of delivery. When the elevator stopped and the doors parted, I ushered my entourage through the opening and into the hallway. Turning to the left I saw the sign indicating the room number where this patient was staying. Then I saw it. "Welcome to the Oncology Unit" in big, bold letters right before my eyes. My heart drooped as I walked forward and knocked softly on the door to #1006.
"Delivery for Alex" I said softly.
"Come on in." the voice answered.
I pushed the door quietly open and saw a Doctor administering medication. The patient was in his late twenties or early thirties; a very strong and muscular, handsome man. But he appeared in a daze as he looked my way. So the Doctor explained to him as he took the balloons from me.
"Some of your friends wanted to send you flowers but we don't allow them on this floor, so they sent these balloons."
Alex mumbled acknowledgement and turned toward the window as I left quietly thanking the Doctor.
This encounter lasted 2 minutes; maybe 3; but it gripped my heart with a vise as tears welled up. I returned to the elevator as a remote robot while I searched my heart for how and what to do with this scene. Somehow I made my way back to my vehicle and as I turned the key I looked up to heaven and pleaded."Jesus! You made healing available to us all. I don't know if this is allowed, but I Appropriate Healing on behalf of Alex! And I ask that healing angels surround him and whatever it takes for him to be healed come to him now, in Jesus name!"
And now, my Lord, you have placed this young man, Alex, into my heart in such a way that I cannot turn away. I may never see him again. I may never know what happens to him. But I carry him.
My heart hurts because of his presence there. I weep for him. I ache for him. I hope for him. I long for his release from this cruel, evil beast.
Again, it seems amazingly ironic that You show me how no sadness lives inside of you and then You share with me the suffering. My mind is in a quandary over this seemingly contradictory aspect of You. Help me to understand.
Much later in the day as I bumbled through my other deliveries, I heard Him. His small, quiet, still voice; so peaceful and serene. "You will know someday, how sharing his suffering changed things."
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