Nebulizers.
Sisters.
Brothers.
Nephews.
Morning light through wooden blinds.
Forgiveness.
Patience.
His strength.
His faithfulness.
His healing.

I'm a person, that between my flesh and my spiritual learning curve, is uncomfortable openly praising my Lord for my situation. Access to care. Home. Means. Family.  For I wonder about the hole. Are those without homes. without medical care. without family. Are they not blessed?  For truly I've seen. I've sensed the hand, face and heart of God closer with those people within that supposed hole.

Yet, I sit here listening to the cough, thick, persistent. Knowing this would be his death sentence. If God had not made good, what others, generations before, had meant for evil.