Grass and Trees
"They said they can’t cure me.”
All I could think to do is pray. With hands laid, I cried initially out of hope, then out of spite; I cried because in that moment, I was angry. He cried because he still believed.
Swallowing his denial, he wanted to spend his last days in a room with a view of the grass and the trees. The simple beauty and adoration of God sustained his dying body. It’s unthinkable how sometimes the things so overlooked, so unimportant, and so seemingly irrelevant is truly all we have left in the end. In the end, it is only God, it has only been God, and it will always be God. It hasn’t hit me yet, either. But if I could be honest, this lesson I truly fear. Because I am beginning to understand the cost.