For the chair by the window. For the clipboard. For the hands folded too tightly.
God, meet me here before the door opens. Give me one steady breath, one honest tear if it needs to fall, and the grace to receive whatever comes without pretending I am not scared.
Let the nurse be kind. Let my people be near, even if only in my phone. Let love win in the small things: a warm sock, a familiar voice, the courage to keep showing up.
Amen, and still becoming.