Comfort, the word, always takes me back to that uncomfortable place. A hospital bed surrounded by a forest of faces and the smell of alcohol and acetone. They’re removing the polish from toenails and fingernails, making yet another stab in my forearm, trying to pour life back into my body.
While life pours into my belly. And I’m so scared.
My husband reaches through the scrub green drapes to hold my hand.
My pastor comes and prays over me right before they whisk me away.
Two days later I sit in the recliner, and I know the battle’s over, and there will be no baby.
I’m alone in this semi-private room, Bible open on lap, reading in 2 Corinthians. “Comfort others like I comfort you.” That’s my Pauline paraphrase.
But I’m numb.
There’s a commotion outside my room, and the nurses wheel her in. A young woman, a teenager.
She’s hidden within a forest of faces, but she’s alone. She has no family with her. So I creep through scrub green drapes and reach for her hand.
As life pours into her belly.
Still sometimes sad,
With Lisa Jo and the Five Minute Friday Community on the word prompt, comfort.
“All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us.” ~1 Corinthians 1:3-4 (MSG)