Late at night when the hospital room grows dark and the sounds that can be heard are mechanical beeps, humming, and alarms– unfamiliar sounds that do not allow peace of mind. Where the noisy chatter which promises healing sounds anything but that, I search for a path to lead me away.
It is at that moment that I look at my father’s eyes, his tenderness, and I see his hands moving in prayer. Oh the gift, oh the courage which opens his heart creating a room in which we can enter. The space within, the solace it brings the only place where I can stay sane. I run and take shelter in his faith wondering if I will ever learn to be brave?
…ah the dark night of the soul which seeks the light held from the other side…
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