I've really (really) missed talking with friends (heck, even acquaintances and strangers would fit the bill at this point) so I was primed and ready to go when one of the neighbors suggested the idea last week. But then today, as we all gathered in the street together and applauded Evan and Adam's promotion to high school, my heart silently protested Logan's absence. Because he too should be finishing eighth grade. And it all felt just so wretchedly unfair all over again.
But that's the thing: it is wretchedly unfair. It's always wretchedly unfair and nothing will change that truth. But in the moments when the weight of that injustice weighs on my heart, I'm grateful that God makes great things come from tragedies. And I hold on to hope that He will do just that with the partially-sewn, ripped-and-repaired patchwork quilt that is me.
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