O God of the Broken Beautiful,
You take the most common, ordinary things and transform them
into nourishment for body and soul.
We need to also make space for lament today.
Our hearts are broken,
We are people who always hold some kind of pain
Living with chronic illness and disability isn’t easy. But we have joy that I believe has grown because we haven’t been given the lives we expected or hoped. We’ve fought hard for joy. We’ve learned to be grateful for the small things…
Tears fall steadily after the trauma
If you came to grips with it at least
Those around you whisper things like “drama”
Each of us faces a diff’rent beast
Jayden and Brooklyn are fine, not sleeping, but fine. As fine as two dying kids can be. Most days, I fear they are doing a better job of living than me.
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