Faith

Prologue

Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

One Year Ago

The glass doors slid open, and I walked through them. The sickly clean smell of disinfectant hit my nose right away, just like all hospitals. The only difference is that I am not at a hospital; this is a hospice.

I walked by the reception desk, returning the wave offered by the lady in the desk. Margaret, I believe, is her name. I continued straight down the hall along the too familiar path that I have taken too many times. I approached the brown wooden door and knocked. There was no answer so I slowly crept the door open.

It was a bland, cream-colored room with little decorations, besides white lace curtains and one lonely rose painting hanging across from the white bed. Next to the bed was a worn armchair and a small wooden table with a phone.

There, wrapped in a quilt, lay my mother. She has a very serious case of lung cancer, and we only found out at stage 3. Now, the cancer had spread all around her body. It had gotten into her brain and reached all the other important organs. I hoped her medications would start to work; otherwise she doesn't have long.

My mother lay motionless on the bed, except for the steady up and down of her breathing chest. I felt tears spark in my eyes and I blinked the feeling away. I sat down in the chair next to her bed and started to do what she always taught me: pray.

"Heavenly Father, I will forever be blessed with the life you have given me but my mom needs that life more. Please help her recover so she has a chance to live. I need her! She is my life! Oh Father I'm not ready for her to go yet and I pray it isn't her time. Please give me and my family comfort in her recovery, guidance for this journey, and peace for whatever may happen. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

I opened my eyes and gazed in silence at my mother. Shortly after, I watched her hand move slightly and she blinked open her eyes.

"Mom!" I said with a smile.

Her eyes, usually fully of sparkle, looked over at me. "Kaitlyn Faith, my lovely daughter. I love hearing you pray like that, and it brings me so much comfort."

My smile grew when I heard my middle name. The name passed on through many generations. I grabbed my mother's pale, soft hand and said, "I love you."

"I love you too, Kaitlyn. Always remember that," she said in a hushed voice. "Can you please promise me something?"

My smile faltered, "Mom what-"

"Please keep your faith in our Father. It will be hard, and I know you will be mad at Him. But you can't have that attitude. Don't lose faith in Him, baby."

I squeezed my mom's hand tighter. "Mom, what are you saying? You have so long to live. You have to be stronger than that. I need you."

"Goodbye baby. I can see my Father now and it is my time. I love you Kaitlyn Faith Hill. Please. Please pray with me."

We wrapped our hands around each others. My mom took a shaky breath and started her prayer. I began to sob as I listened to her soft voice for what will be the last time. "My Father," she said, "I know it is time for me to join Your kingdom. I am ready. But my daughter is not, and I pray You help her through this."

She coughed, once, and then continued. "Keep her close and don't let her slip away from You, please. I don't want her to lose You, Father, because You will keep her on the right path. I would like You to give her strength to get through this, and love to have forever. In Your name I pray, Amen."

One lone tear trickled down her cheek as she raised my hands to her lips. She kissed it once, coughed, and took a deep breath.

I lay my head down on her quilt and sobbed as my mother took her last breath.

And ever since that day, I have never prayed to God again.