We’ve hunkered down in healing, holding each other close. On Friday, my daughter nearly fell through the thin place in the veil to heaven. Her car is a mangled mess and the M in her name stands for miracle now. It’s what they called her on the stretcher, in the ambulance, on my couch. I’ve seen the crooked smile of heaven and it’s perfect.
I’ll tell you more on Monday, when I can navigate past the fog and stop walking through pudding.
Until then, may you find yourself in a crowded room of smiles, embracing love and truth with the kiss of peace. And remember each moment like the mural hanging on your wall telling the tale of beauty in the way the paint bleeds.