"He stepped aside and tried to make a few calls. Hugging his daughter and grabbing his head, you could tell he was heartbroken. This woman next to him at the front counter heard the whole thing."
"I could feel hot, salty tears coming down my face. I sat and cried silently... I was scrunching myself up against the wall as far as I could. All of a sudden, someone from behind us taps on the guy’s shoulder..."
In churches across America, a quiet but consequential conversation is unfolding. It often begins with a question—sometimes whispered, sometimes posted publicly on social media....
"When the storms of life rage, because, by golly, they will, it’s a strict tunnel vision I must maintain to keep from drowning. I cannot look to the left, or to the right."
"One pink line. He reached over to catch me thinking I would fall apart. But I didn't. My heart just sank to the bottom of the floor...I fell to the ground and let out the floodgate of tears I was holding back."
