Poured like Whine?

Poured out. What a good way to describe it. I wonder what kind of offering I was today. I got to sit and talk with a dying man in the middle of an absurdly fast flowing and turbulent day. It makes my stomach churn a bit, all the things that pull at me through the day and steal more and more time from people like him, who wait all day in an uncomfortable bed, hoping for someone to slow down just long enough... I've missed this. No wonder I have those infuriating dreams where I'm trying to get to the plane crash to help but I can't get there and I keep getting delayed and detoured by the most ridiculous inventions of my mind. I think maybe I feel similar to what the disciples must have felt when He told them to feed the 5,000 with the few loaves and fish-helpless.