The motel room smelled of stale smoke and lacked a view of more than an asphalt parking lot. Even in this dismal place I could not be swayed from the faith and hope I carried in my heart. The more I listened to a friend’s pain and hurt, the more I was sure she’d find the help she needed once she’d come to the realization no one else could save her.
Coming to the end of self isn’t easy. Watching her vent in frustration, I could offer nothing of comfort. Her pride was dying a slow death and the anger of feeling it was taking a toll on her emotions. She sat in her chair trying to understand the words of wisdom another friend shared, but it was uncertain how much was sinking in yet.
Out of money and out of time for the cheap motel room, it was time to leave. As we got in my car I turned on the windshield wipers for the rain. A dead leaf was stuck in the arm and I got out to remove it. Standing in the gentle rain I felt peaceful knowing she would be guided down the right path no matter how difficult it was for her to take the steps.