Aching

 

My heart drops. 

I hate to think of you being so sick. 

I hate that your suffering doesn't seem to go away. 

You tell me, "I know this won't last forever,"

But sometimes I feel like it will. 

I hurt for you, and what can I do?

I'll love you. 

I'll pray for you. 

I know God has a purpose for everything.

He'll hold you up, dear friend, and the light will shine again.