I’ve stared at this screen for half an hour, not sure where to start or how much to say. But I guess I’ll start with this:

Someone died today.

She was someone who, though I only met a couple of weeks ago, wasn’t quite a friend yet, but definitely more than an aquaintance. We had reason to bond through events of the past couple of weeks, and she instantly had a place in my heart, in that weird way that all parents do who come into my life through these circumstances.

Though I never knew her before, I got the feeling life had been pretty much happy and pleasant before we met. Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t all perfect ~ it never is ~ but I get the feeling that all was pretty much going according to plan. Beautiful family? Check. Happy daughters? Check.

Until her precious, love-of-her-life, pride-and-joy, cheerleader daughter was injured. Almost fatally.

The daughter was comatose from injuries sustained, and the family was devastated.

But this family was a family of faith and prayer, and prayed like nobody’s business for their beloved, pride-and-joy daughter to recover. They would have sacrificed anything.

One day she opened her eyes, and that was exciting.

The next day she wiggled her toes, and that was thrilling.

And then, as days passed, she stood up, and that was miraculous.

She began tracking people walking past and mouthing single words to those who were paying attention. It couldn’t hurt that the family was by her side every step of the way, every minute of every day that they could physically be there. Their love and hope was contagious, though it was clear to all who saw them the agony they were enduring and the toll it was taking on them as they labored in prayer for their daughter.

And prayers, for sure, were being answered…. miracles were happening. But it didn’t come without cost.

The mom passed away today, unexpectedly. Right there by her daughter’s side, holding her daughter’s hand. Exactly where she wanted to be… exactly where she would have gladly poured out her life anyway.

I thought about her all day and cried quite a bit, as I had grown pretty fond of this family by now. It was hard not to love them.

And I just wondered to myself, What was the last thing she prayed, before she fell asleep there holding her daughter’s hand, never to wake up again?
As a mom to my own precious, love-of-my-life, pride-and-joy daughters, I knew exactly what I would have prayed in the same situation:

Lord, take me instead.

What mom wouldn’t pray that? What mom wouldn’t gladly sacrifice… anything?
There is really no point to this story, except that as I’ve dwelt on it all day and struggled to make sense of it all, and wrap my head around exactly how God is working in all this and how exactly God could allow this to happen, the only conclusions I can come to are these:

God works all things together for our good.

And God is always good, all the time.

And that’s all I got.