"I don’t know who this lady is... she waved at him and he made his way up to her. I thought their interaction would be the same as last time but I was wrong. "
"I felt the tug on my sleeve and looked down to find him standing motionless. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t make out his words. His quiet body in the noisy room caught me off guard. I bent down to find his voice."
How could I possibly know our biggest struggle? Because I’ve heard the same universal thread whispered by pastors’ wives, and prodigal daughters, and everyone in between.
