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Short entry today.
Jaymun is doing very well, and expected to come home very soon.
We still pray constantly that the cancer will not return - Jaymun reminds us how fragile life is.
Our nerves are delicate - it will be a while before little bruises and skin marks stop causing our hearts to skip a beat.
Yesterday I was blessed to witness the wedding celebration of a good friend and co-worker.
Driving home from the reception - talking with Jennifer on the phone - she told me about the fourteen-year-old
down the hall. Bobby is not expected to live more than few days.
One minute music and happiness, and the next - a sobering wave of pain.
I have discovered a new level of sorrow for others.
It is not an enviable intimacy.
Treading the path of mortal crisis, unsure of your grip on the hand of a loved one,
eyes dimmed by tears, mind too fatigued to distinguish between hope and reality
...desperation frustrated by human limitation, breaths measured between futility and faith.
This morning our pastor preached a sermon on miracles and used Jaymun (among others)
as examples of how God blesses the gifts of medical science, and personal sacrifice,
with His miraculous healing touch.
During which, I could hardly keep tears from my eyes,
...my heart hurting for the family and son struggling with such a looming, painful, shadow of grief.
I have yet to meet them, but somehow I immediately, excruciatingly share their aching anguish.
"Jesus - I know you are compassionate - and you cry with us. Your presence makes all the difference.
Please be with them...."