Today, a friend waited four hours in the ER so her curious 11-month-old baby could receive nine staples to his head. And then she miscarried the baby in her womb.
Yeah.
I find myself being grateful for the child bouncing around my house in his batman underpants, and for the one bruising my innards as I type.
I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, but I’m glad for my today.
