There is a message that I need to send to a relative stranger. Her husband lies in Intensive Care while she holds her two small children and prays. I don’t know why he is there and I don’t know who is there supporting her. But I know that I ache for her pain.
So I need to send a message, but I don’t quite have the words…
Is it a message of hope, or will that hurt too much?
Is it a message of support, or will that ring hollow from a faceless name a thousand miles away?
Is it a message of solidarity in the face of battle, or will that hold no meaning from one who cannot fully know the pain?
Perhaps it is a message of love. A message of a foreign heart breaking for the suffering of another. Perhaps a message sent from the purest part of my humanitiy to what is common between us.
And the message goes something like this:
When you are in your darkest hour, when you are at your lowest ebb, when the walls close in around you, when there is no way out and the blackness swallows you whole, it is then that a trapdoor will open beneath you and you will fall into the light.
Hold on, Lori. The trapdoor will come.
Thank you, Wanderlust, for getting the word out in this special edition of FYBF