Death can provide an exclamation point on a life that was already expressing the glory of God.
My friend passed between that one-day-will-be-thin sheath of death and life and I tried to remember if I’d ever told her how much of an imprint she’d left upon me.
Claire and I shared a small city but couldn’t have been more different, back then. She had six children. I had none. My womb was empty — and sometimes I wore a suit to work. I was fumbling through my twenties, both unsure of myself and also overconfident and she had bigger concerns than her weekend plans. She’d earned her grey hair.
Not too long after I met Claire, {continue reading over here —->}
