The hoshpital

So....
Friday?
Friday. Nope. I never have a good sense of time. It was possibly wednesday.
Friday morning my sister woke me up crying. With her crying, that is. She's 19 and she was moaning and bawling like a baby. It was just before 2:30 am. She couldn't stop crying and moaning. I sat next to her and she clung to me like a little kid. And bawled. I tried to sing and comfort her and my voice was scratchy...She laid in bed and talked to our mom for a little bit. I was watching her. My nineteen year old sister, crying as hard as I've ever seen.
I had been feeling peace but this weighed down on me.
I went into my room and wrote about it. About how I didn't feel hope. How this perspective was being forced at me.
I looked up hope in my bible's concordance and this is what I found:

So I say, "my endurance has perished; so has my hope from the LORD." But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. "The LORD is my portion," says my soul, `"therefore I will hope in him."

- Lamentations 3:18, 21-24

I set it as my status. As a reminder and a quiet message to my family. I prayed. I passed out. 

They admitted Sara and she's been at the hospital since. My hope is that they can find out what's wrong, and a hospital seems like a good environment for her, because of all her pain.

Answers, peace, healing, comfort, strength...

We need some prayer.