Standing on the Rock

 My father was dying - cancer.  My mother and my two sisters and I were in the hospital room with him. He was in a coma.  For days we kept our vigil. My sisters and mother slept in the chairs in the room.  I slept on the floor by his bed.  My oldest sister lost it a few times and would sob loudly.  My younger sister was just as hurt, I am sure, and often she whimpered softly.  Mother was just sort of numbed by it all and show no real response to much of anything.  

At one time my oldest sister completely lost it and went into a sobbing tirade. In the midst of of the sobbing, my father roused unexpectedly only for a moment and shook his head side to side as if to say no to the sobbing remorse.    Then he fell back into the coma - a gift from God - my sister calmed down.  

A day or so later we all gathered around his bedside and I prayed and begged out loud that the Lord would just go on and take him.  We can let him go.  We don't want him like this anymore - please God.  In a matter of hours he died.  

Leaving the room that day my oldest sister grabbed my arm.  

"Marv, thank you so much for being here and being like a rock for all of us."

"Marly,"  I answered. "I am not a rock.  I am only standing on One."

Praise God that I  may continue to stand upon that Rock