Pray together. Pray privately.

Three years almost to the day from the diagnosis. The doctor said the word 'remission' and I think I said 'thank you' four times before I could pull it together. I am not the same person I was three years ago. I am quieter. I am less impressed by some things and more impressed by others. I cry at the smallest pieces o…

Nine months in. The CV is now in a folder that I open less often. The early kindnesses from friends have settled into a quieter awkwardness — they don't know what to ask anymore. This week I almost took a role I didn't want, just to be employed. I talked it over with a friend and slept on it and said no. I'm proud of …

He had a hard week at school — sensory overload on Tuesday, then a misunderstanding with a classmate on Thursday. The teachers are kind but stretched. Pray for one breakthrough this month, and for a steady friend. He doesn't need many. He needs one.

We didn't tell them how stretched we are; they wouldn't accept the help if they knew. Pray for sufficiency for everyone. Pray for me to do this without resentment, even on the months when it is hard. They gave us everything they had once.

It was not the year we imagined. We had two job losses, a small loss in the family, and a long stretch where we both just survived next to each other instead of with each other. Pray for the second year. For tenderness to come back. For the small habits — the goodnight, the hand on the shoulder, the laugh at our share…

Pray for the courage to call. The first sentence is the hardest.

Two real options on the table. Both could work. Both have shadows. Pray for clarity rather than certainty — I keep waiting to feel sure, and the feeling isn't coming. Pray for the wisdom to choose with the information I have, and the courage to live with whichever choice.

We hadn't spoken properly in four years. Long story, dumb story; it started with an argument about our father's money and ended with neither of us willing to be the first to call. I called yesterday. He picked up on the second ring like he had been waiting. We talked for two hours. We cried. We laughed about something…

He had a hard week at school — sensory overload on Tuesday, then a misunderstanding with a classmate on Thursday. The teachers are kind but stretched. Pray for one breakthrough this month, and for a steady friend. He doesn't need many. He needs one.

Three weeks in, we finally got the full story out of him on Sunday night. He had been carrying it alone, which is the part that breaks me the most. We meet with the school on Wednesday. Pray for the right tone — firm without being explosive. Pray for the school to take it seriously. Pray for kind classmates around him…

Seen, even when it is quiet. Held, even when no one knows. May this prayer find you wherever you are sitting tonight, and may it land like a hand on your shoulder.

Three years almost to the day from the diagnosis. The doctor said the word 'remission' and I think I said 'thank you' four times before I could pull it together. I am not the same person I was three years ago. I am quieter. I am less impressed by some things and more impressed by others. I cry at the smallest pieces o…

Three weeks in, we finally got the full story out of him on Sunday night. He had been carrying it alone, which is the part that breaks me the most. We meet with the school on Wednesday. Pray for the right tone — firm without being explosive. Pray for the school to take it seriously. Pray for kind classmates around him…

He had a hard week at school — sensory overload on Tuesday, then a misunderstanding with a classmate on Thursday. The teachers are kind but stretched. Pray for one breakthrough this month, and for a steady friend. He doesn't need many. He needs one.

We hadn't spoken properly in four years. Long story, dumb story; it started with an argument about our father's money and ended with neither of us willing to be the first to call. I called yesterday. He picked up on the second ring like he had been waiting. We talked for two hours. We cried. We laughed about something…

It was not the year we imagined. We had two job losses, a small loss in the family, and a long stretch where we both just survived next to each other instead of with each other. Pray for the second year. For tenderness to come back. For the small habits — the goodnight, the hand on the shoulder, the laugh at our share…

It still doesn't feel real most mornings. I open my phone to text her about something silly maybe twice a week. Then I remember. Some days I am okay. I work, I cook, I laugh at a thing on the radio. Other days I am ambushed by a song or a smell or someone who looks a little like her from behind, and I have to sit down…

She has been with us as a foster placement for fourteen months. Today the judge said the words. We cried in the hallway and a stranger handed us a tissue and didn't ask why. She is three. She has a small bag of things she came with that we have kept exactly the way it was on the day. We will tell her about her first …

Two real options on the table. Both could work. Both have shadows. Pray for clarity rather than certainty — I keep waiting to feel sure, and the feeling isn't coming. Pray for the wisdom to choose with the information I have, and the courage to live with whichever choice.

Pray for a gentle welcome and a friend by lunchtime.

Pray for patience, humour, and hugs that still get accepted.

It was not the year we imagined. We had two job losses, a small loss in the family, and a long stretch where we both just survived next to each other instead of with each other. Pray for the second year. For tenderness to come back. For the small habits — the goodnight, the hand on the shoulder, the laugh at our share…

Seen, even when it is quiet. Held, even when no one knows. May this prayer find you wherever you are sitting tonight, and may it land like a hand on your shoulder.

Three weeks in, we finally got the full story out of him on Sunday night. He had been carrying it alone, which is the part that breaks me the most. We meet with the school on Wednesday. Pray for the right tone — firm without being explosive. Pray for the school to take it seriously. Pray for kind classmates around him…

I don't know the details. Pray for them anyway.

Such a tender world. We can do small good things.

Twelve people. I can keep eight. Officially the announcement is next Tuesday. I have known for three weeks and have been carrying it alone, which has not been good for my sleep or my marriage. Three of the four I have to let go are people I respect deeply. One is a single parent. One has a chronic illness in his famil…

It was not the year we imagined. We had two job losses, a small loss in the family, and a long stretch where we both just survived next to each other instead of with each other. Pray for the second year. For tenderness to come back. For the small habits — the goodnight, the hand on the shoulder, the laugh at our share…