Back in college, I often lay awake late into the night, mentally scrolling through my ever-increasing prayer list. Sometimes I would drift into sleep, only to jerk awake at two a.m., horrified to realize I had missed praying for the last few people.
On Halloween, my kids excitedly put on their costumes to run house to house for their annual candy-induced sugar high. My four-year-old son wore a full knight costume, complete with helmet, shield, and shining silver sword. Inside this little boy lived a mighty warrior ready for battle. But what did this young knight do first? He poked his two-year-old sister with his plastic sword!
I don’t remember breaking my neck, but I’ve heard the basic story. As I bicycled home from work twelve years ago, another cyclist cut in and sent me spinning off the trail to land headfirst on a rock. My spine was crushed rather than severed, so I can breathe without
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