Yesterday I spent all day in Ruth’s room.
When I got there she was not doing well, and her mother was destroyed.
I prayed a lot, cried a lot and held her mother.
She told me how just the day before she was singing “I’m a child of God”, she was conscience, she called out “momma”.
It was time to go home, I said good-bye and told her I would be there tomorrow.
About an hour later while I am walking to the bus stop I get a call saying she is requesting my presence.
I walk into the room and it’s filled with nurses, a doctor, Chaplains, friends.
Her mother sits in a chair, there is nothing coming out of her.
I hug her tight and she begins to cry in my arms.
Ruth was dying. She was pale, her eyes were open and her heartbeat was at 37.
And I held her mother.
Within minutes, no heart beat.
God has gifted me with compassion. I felt a mother’s pain after losing her only daughter.
I cried. my knees were weak. I couldn’t breath. I needed to throw up.
I keep thinking about Ruth and things do not make sense, she was 12.
Her mother invited me to spend the night. She said she didn’t have any family here so we went to visit her.
She invited me to Indonesia and was thankful that through Ruth she met me. She called me family. We cried some more.
God did not send me to the hospital to heal Ruth, He sent me there to comfort her mother.
She’s gone now, she’s gone home.
After a month of fighting, they are flying home today and taking Ruth's body with them.
