There is a place between broken and whole, hurt and healed.
My home is the in between.
My home is the healing space.
For years now we have taken in the broken and waited and loved. Some go home, some stay.
I have just taken the call, Little T is on his way home.
We don't work miracles here, that's God's gig.
We do the simple. We love and wait along side for the healing to come. Often that healing wears the mark of an ugly scar, inside or out, but that's ok.
We do the practical. We wash, we feed. We take them to the care they need, whatever kind of doctor that may be or even a team of them is that's what they need.
We pray.
We love.
We let go.
