Sometimes, a baby you know gets sick. This baby has parents and love and dimples and blue eyes, and lives in the hospital as of two weeks ago. Baby reminds you of Charles Wallace because he had problems with his mitochondria, too. There was also something about farandolae which you're still not sure is real. You cry sometimes, twice, for awhile, unexpectedly, 1. when his great aunt writes a post and tags your friends, his family, and 2. when you hear a sermon on people living with disabilities at your old church in Portland as you visit, one week after you find out that he may only live until age 15, if through the year, and that he will live in some state of disability. You cry and you worship.
And then, especially then, you pray.
And wait.
And listen...
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