Remembering a particular sheep.

I think we wonder sometimes if Jesus knows we are in the hospital. The shepherd unaware of the sheep who are here. 

Because if he knew, he’d be here, right? 

Climbing the stairs, two at a time. 

Holding up a hand to stop the protestations of public safety. 

Winking at the RN, asking the tech for a blanket, and then telling the patient, telling you, to stand up and walk. 

After a month of tests, after a decade of illness, after a day of the tiniest of NCU breaths, a miracle. 

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