Last year, my grandfather had a stroke and I went to visit him in the hospital. The family and I gathered in the waiting room and took turns visiting with him at his bedside. During one of my rotations in the waiting area, I looked up and saw my grandmother standing at the nurse’s station, crying. I rushed to her side and learned that the doctor told her she needed to make a decision about putting my grandfather into hospice care. I didn’t know what to do or the right words to say to her. Finally, I put my arms around her and said, “Let’s go pray.”
We went to the hospital’s chapel and cried out to the Lord. We wept. We asked for wisdom. We asked for help. We asked for strength to make it through the coming days.
We lamented.
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