Death of another

A colleague of mine is dying. She retired and was then diagnosed with terminal cancer. I think of her. I think of her sons who have only just reached adulthood.

I feel sad she will no longer be here. I wouldn't have seen much of her but the loss of someone so sunny is sad just because it is a loss to the world.

Then there is the shame. The shame that I would gladly take her place. Not to save her but to free me. The shame that whilst she has to plan her funeral because she is dying, I plan mine because I can't bear to live my life.

The shame that I share a gospel of hope and profess a faith where I am expected to suffer. Where I know I am loved beyond measure. Where I know all suffering is for a purpose and will bring glory to God. The shame I tell others of this but cannot live it enough to see any way out of my own suffering.

The shame that where my colleague has no choice, I do and wish I didn't. Trapped as I feel unable to share because I know how selfish this feeling is. Painfully aware that I can save my family from the pain my colleague's husband and sons are facing but that I don't really want to because I am so blinded by how much emotional pain I am in.

So ashamed, alone and unable to see any way to live, again I battle. Battle to urge to save myself.