Flowers on a Tuesday.

This week, my job has been to help someone else’s life to tell a better story. I have worried and cried and prayed about it, but, in the end, I wasn’t the one doing the heavy lifting. I’m just facilitating, watching, and silently cheering. And working my tail off in the process. That’s what it means, sometimes, to work with students. And sometimes they rock it so hard you can barely stand it. I wish I could tell you more about it, but it’s not my story to tell. I guess that’s what it’s like to be a parent. Those are things I hear parents say, anyway.

I didn’t know that it was all going to work out okay, back when I was worrying and crying and praying so much. I didn’t know it was going to be rocked so hard. So these, showing up at my house? It meant a lot.


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