Hard Fought

My friend with the 30 year medallion passed away last night.
I can't get our last conversation out of my head.
He knew he had a lesion but no biopsy results yet.
He said he hoped his time wasn't up,
he wanted to be around for a while yet.
That was less than two months ago.

A week ago his wife asked for prayers
that he wouldn't linger long.
That they both wished for his time to come quickly.
I imagine this past week has felt
both exceedingly long
and exceedingly short.

I rarely pray farther than
"Thy will be done" anymore.
To some that probably sounds lame,
as if I don't expect anything from God.
To me that prayer is simply
acknowledging that God's God and I'm not.
I don't know what God's will is.
For me. For you. For anyone.
I can so quickly get my will
and God's screwed right up.
As if I know what's best
for me. For you. For anyone.
I don't.

I do believe that God is with me
in whatever my life's circumstances may be.
I don't have to like those circumstances.
Sometimes I sit here, look at what is and
think, "Oh, for fuck's sake."
As if I'm on a merry go round
for which there is no stop button.

But whatever is happening today
is not permanent.
It just is.
I take comfort in believing
that Jesus hunkers down with me
in both the worst
and the best of days.

It's easy to type that right now
because this is not the worst of days.
I've had a few of them though.
I'm thinking of this day in particular.
That day will always be a defining moment in my life.
Where the rubber met the road when it came to my faith.
Where I had to decide whether God was with me in the midst of such anguish
or I was left on my own to blindly make my way through.
I don't know what the future holds for me
any more than my friend knew his two months ago.
Hope is a hard fought word for me.
It would not be my favourite word
without the worst of days.

Rest in peace my friend.