Today there was a  steroid craving in the form of a T-bone for breakfast, Michael nailing down a Principal’s List award (straight As for the year) and Nicky enjoying his fifth grade pool party, hosted at our home.

Me. Copious amounts of ibuprofen and caffeine. To my new friends, I was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy in 2015. It’s always annoyingly THERE, but sometimes flares up in exacerbation, determined to keep me on a heating pad.

Neuromuscular disease. I am 39 but, at times, have the aches and pains of someone much older.

But I’m NOT old. And I have three young kids, one of them a cancer patient.

I push on. I have a weakness, yes, but one that leads me to a deeper dependence on Divine strength. And this is good for me. Yes, it is good, because God is good.

Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage. As they pass through the Valley of Baka, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools. They go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion. Psalm 84:5-7