I'm currently writing from the waiting room of the local cardiovascular intensive care unit (CVICU). And basically, the adjective that describes this room also describes what is going on in my life right now. Waiting.
Waiting on answers. Waiting on results. Waiting on guidance. Waiting on news. Waiting on whether or not my life is going to completely change. Waiting on my grandma to please get better.
I absolutely hate this. I truly do. I feel so raw. So exposed, confused, and hopeless.
I'm trying to keep something in mind that a friend I've become close to over the past month or so told me. Whether or not Grandma survives this horrible situation, Jesus died on the cross so she could be healed. And whatever the outcome, she will be healed, whether it's in Heaven with our Saviour or on earth here with us. She's going to be healed.