As she talked, I breathed in, making sure my own chest didn’t rattle. Fearfully I listened knowing that this silent, invisible enemy is working his way nearer, squeezing out breath of any and all along the way.
You don’t want to see it. Trust me on this one. The gruesome image of my husband’s ankle split wide apart—bone exposed—taken by an audacious ER nurse who couldn’t believe his eyes is unsettling at best. The incongruity can only be fully understood by knowing that my husband is a natural athlete. He throws a … Continue reading tangible brokenness