I Prayed for a Miracle—Now I Lock My Door at Night

public, too full of strangers who wanted a feel-good story, not a real one.

The woman’s face changed. Not to anger. To something worse.

To distance.

“Oh,” she said. “Well… you know… God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.”

There it was.

The sentence people throw at suffering like it’s a bandage.

Like it’s comfort.

Like it’s not a knife.

I stared at her.continue reading …