I experienced something yesterday that I won't soon forget. I visited a young 9-year old girl in the hospital. Her name is Tara. She is quickly dying of cancer. It was a saddening sight. Tara lie there in and out of sleep, waiting for death. Her mother, exhausted with worry also waiting, watching her oldest of 4 suffer.

Tara has lost all her hair, her body is bloated from the medications, her voice is destroyed from the cancer that started in her throat. A raspy whisper is all that remains. She can't swallow and is forced to frequently use suction to clear her throat or her breathing is threatened. She receives all nourishment from the tubes running into her arms. The cancer is slowly and painfully killing this little girl. Medicine patches on her stifle the pain but cause Tara to spend the last months of her life in and out of a deep sleep. Slowly, the doctors are removing the tubes that keep her body hydrated and nourished. Soon, these tubes will be completely removed. She will eventually die of dehydration. Her mother explains this to me without a single tear, numb to the reality of whats becoming of her little girl. She says it all seems like a bad dream. Unfortunately, it is not.

And yet, while this little girl lies dying, she lives. Her bible sits on a shelf but a few feet from where her head lays. Her mother reads it to her sometimes. At one point Tara becomes frantic until her mother finds it. She doesnt want her mother to read it to her now. She just needs to know that its there. Tara is weak, but she is "still sassy" her mother tells me after being sprayed by a can of Silly String because she said something Tara didn't like. She is surrounded by stuffed animals, high school musical posters, and happy birthday baloons. Her mom covers her up with a Zac Afron blanket. Tara, between gasps for breath and after gaining enough strength to whisper moans... "other....way..." She wants the blanket turned over so everyone in the room can see his face.

Her mother Crystal shares some of her thoughts. the pain. the questions. She's hurting. But she is hopeful. She knows the Lord.

I found myself with my face buried in my pillow last night, tears stinging my eyes as I began to pray for Tara and her mother. I found myself asking God some of the same questions Crystal probably asks him too:
Why this little girl, God? Why like this? You have the power to heal her- why don't you? Are you sparing her from something worse? Can I take her place instead God, she's only 9 years old!? If the same power that raised Christ from the dead lives in me, can you use me to raise her up? Will we ever understand?

I dont have the answers to these questions, exactly.  But I know my God is sovereign and He will do what he knows is best. I know my God loves Tara more than her mother or any other person possibly could. I know that my God has a plan, a plan that we may never understand on this side of heaven. I know that God carries our burdens- they arent meant for us to carry alone. I know that He doesnt give more than we can bear- even when what he gives seems like an awful lot. I know God can make good out of every situation- even crazy horrible situations. Ultimately, I know that God is in control. I choose to trust Him.

My hope is in Him. And I will continue to pray for Tara. And I will continue to pray for her mother Crystal....join me?

woah.

asking..expecting... believing...