Pray together. Pray privately.

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…

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.

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.

Pray for clear thinking and the right people showing up.

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…

Pray for soft landings between waves.

Pray for sufficiency and for peace.

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

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 sufficiency and for peace.

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 patience and for the long view.

I keep replaying it. Pray for me to lay it down without dropping the boundary. There is a version of forgiveness that is just self-erasure and I don't want to do that. There is also a version that holds resentment forever and I don't want to do that either. Pray for the middle path.

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…

The doctors said it would take six weeks. We are at week ten. She is still in pain most mornings and stubborn about her medication — wants to do without it, then crashes by lunchtime. Yesterday she cried for the first time. We sat at the kitchen table for an hour, not saying much. Pray for her body to heal. But more t…

It might be nothing. The doctor used the word 'probably' and the word 'most likely' a lot, and then scheduled three more appointments. I held it together through the consult and cried in the car park afterwards. We haven't told the kids yet. They have a big school week and I don't want to give them this to carry. My h…

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…

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…

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.

May help reach them quickly. May they not feel alone.

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…

I keep replaying it. Pray for me to lay it down without dropping the boundary. There is a version of forgiveness that is just self-erasure and I don't want to do that. There is also a version that holds resentment forever and I don't want to do that either. Pray for the middle path.