Somebody's going to need you

One day the call comes, and it isn't asking for advice. A parent who can't do the stairs alone anymore. A friend whose life comes apart on a Thursday. A move with three flights and one truck. That kind of day asks one question. Can you stay?

Maybe part of you hoped the call would go to someone else. That wasn't selfishness. You knew you'd need to slip away and smoke, and you'd get twitchy and short until you did. So you volunteered for the parts you could manage. The cigarette kept calling you out of every room that needed you.

That's changing under you. Six hours in a plastic hospital chair. Three in the morning, vending machine coffee going cold. You can stay put, with no eye on the exit. God sends people into rooms like that. Now He can send you. Being able to stay is a strength you get to spend on people.

You may already know who it'll be. Say their name. Then pray with their face in your mind. Keep me ready for them. Let today count toward being there when your phone lights up. I'm going to be the one who comes.