My son carried two cards to our mailbox today: one for Sister Nat, a sweet lady at church who’s experienced great healing with an experimental cancer treatment; the other for Mr. Harold, an older gentleman who works in the office of the church where the kids and I go for classes one day a week.
I often type prayer requests on my phone to remind me of those who need a card in the mail: I hope you feel better soon. I’m sorry for your loss. You have not been forgotten. But in spite of good intentions, sometimes they’re never written.
It took Mr. Harold to make me stop and ask: Who might need my words today?
Read the rest of the story today at (in)courage.
