The world doesn’t cater to healing. It all spins way too fast. Bodies need time while the world wants on time, and the need for healing gets lost under the assembly line conveyor belt. The IV drips consistent next to his bed. There is no rushing there. He’s quiet now. No sounds or snores or stopping of breath. I whisper thank you’s to nobody and everyone. For nearly 10 hours, I’ve sat in the same place next to him. And as I do, I realize how our souls are so like our bodies. They need space to heal as well, but the wounds aren’t so apparent and they can be more painful, anyway. And so we rush, we cover up, we turn the channel and spin right along with the world.

Thank you for your emails, comments, and prayers this week as our son had his tonsils and adenoids/asteriods removed. I can’t believe I get to know such a beautiful community of supportive people. You have blessed my family and you are a gift. And to those of you who quietly stepped out from the shadows for the first time to offer support, I want to say especially thank you. I hope you’ll speak up more often around here. Your voice is greatly appreciated.