Dear Marissa, thank you for sharing this. My son was in the children’s hospital for two months off and on over the last year. This Ash Wednesday has a certain amount of poignancy this year. I appreciated how you called the hospitals “hallowed ground.”
Dear Marissa, how you have touched my heart. I think of the Eleousa icon. The Mother gazes at you, forlorn, and there is no way for her (and for you) to escape the pain. The Child looks at her, touches her cheek: "I am here." There it is. It is that. Impossibly excrutiating, impossibly loving. An icon like that, a post like yours, dear one, they show us that "I am here," that difficult grace.
You are so welcome, Bill. And I'm so very sorry for your losses. May the God who weeps with the bereaved make His nearness known to you today and always.
Dear Marissa, thank you for sharing this. My son was in the children’s hospital for two months off and on over the last year. This Ash Wednesday has a certain amount of poignancy this year. I appreciated how you called the hospitals “hallowed ground.”
Thank you for reading. ❤️🩹 I am sorry we share this experience in common.
Dear Marissa, how you have touched my heart. I think of the Eleousa icon. The Mother gazes at you, forlorn, and there is no way for her (and for you) to escape the pain. The Child looks at her, touches her cheek: "I am here." There it is. It is that. Impossibly excrutiating, impossibly loving. An icon like that, a post like yours, dear one, they show us that "I am here," that difficult grace.
Thank you for this, Kaat. ❤️🩹 Your words about the icon are a grace.
You are so welcome, Bill. And I'm so very sorry for your losses. May the God who weeps with the bereaved make His nearness known to you today and always.
Thank you for reading, Ericka, and for these kind words. ❤️🩹