More on Gabe…I really can’t get the kid off my mind. And his family. Renee said yesterday that they have no more than 2 weeks with him, thus said the hospice nurse. And Gabe wants to die. But I said that already. They’re hurting so incredibly badly. It’s horrible, and no one can do anything about it. And no one can do anything for them.
I know this breaks God’s heart. I know that he would not have Gabe suffer, that he would not have them all suffer, and that he’s holding them all right now. But they don’t know that, or at least, Renee doesn’t. She’s going to be so incredibly lonely next year–Gabe dies, and Mike goes off to school, and she’s left in an empty house with parents who are grieving.
Isaac is reading the book Death Be Not Proud, about a boy with terminal brain cancer. I took one look at it and said, “I don’t need to read that; I could write it.” And I could, I think. I’m sure the book is wonderful, but the thought of reading something like that right now is a little overwhelming. I know real people who are dying, real people with cancer, real people who are suffering. I don’t need to read about fictional ones (though this is a true story, so I guess that’s not quite right).
Lord God, have mercy on your child Gabriel, whatever that means right now. Comfort his little heart, and comfort the hearts of those who are with him, watching, with him, for the moment where you will come and take him and he will be with you. Give them all peace, and the joy of these last moments, before eternity, where they will all be together. And welcome Gabriel into your kingdom in your perfect time, where he can run and jump and shoot water guns again. Amen.