more like you

it's at her feet
is where i want to spend my time
next to the iv bags
and the migraine medicine
because that is where she is planted,
in immense pain,
each breath she takes,
a gift.
she praises God she can sit up
without vomiting.
she thanks God she still has use of her
taste buds to eat crispy
oven cooked potatoes.
i shove my hands beneath my knees,
as she reclines above me,
her voice soft and slow.
more than a year has passed,
and she has seen the walls of
hospitals and white doctor coats
than most of  use see in a life time.
we all float on with our lives,
busying ourselves with
trivial things,
like what shall we have for dinner
or what sweatshirt shall we
pull from the closet.
she seeks after the face of God.
she never stops talking to Him,
drawing on every drop of strength He offers to her.
she focuses her mind and heart on
things above,
on things yet unseen.
i want to be near these people.
the hidden, the tucked away,
the ones with lives steeped in suffering.
because i know without a shadow of a doubt,
that is where God is.
He spends His time sitting with her,
His breath on her face,
His gentle touch
never far from her.
she is of great worth in His eyes.
He is close to the broken in spirit.
the wasting away.
the sick.
the dying.
they are ones who need Him.
who are desperate for even a moment of relief,
and when and if they get it,
they are thankful.
can we say we are thankful
that our heads are not hammered with pain,
that our nerves are working,
or that we can even breathe?
every single thing we've been given
is a gift from above.
above and beyond what we deserve.
how dare we clench our fists
and demand more,
expect this,
arrogantly cross our arms
with entitlement.
no. we deserve nothing.
we deserve death.
i listen to our beloved teacher 
speak of humility, 
the way of meekness, 
and what it means to be poor in spirit. 
that is what i want to be. 
just like her. 
emptied of self and strength that only 
reaches the edges of earthly things anyways. 
no.
what i seek, 
what i welcome 
is a life of suffering. 
a life of loss and brokenness 
because i see that this is where joy and life are 
found 
the world has a hard time seeing this,
scoffs at it really- 
but i have seen it with my 
own eyes
experienced it in my 
own feeble life 
witnessed it in her, 
that no suffering is wasted 
it hasn't dulled or dimmed or darkened,
it has only caused her 
to shine like the noonday Sun, 
reflecting the holiness of God Himself.
may i welcome the suffering for righteousness sake,
for there and only there 
is the kingdom of heaven.