The door opens and a little cold spills into the warmth of home.  They arrive from the hospital; weary from doing nothing much.  Tired from sitting and listening to loud breathing and for it’s absence.  Votives light the table, their glow’s coating everything with a sheen of beauty.

It’s no wonder Jesus said to “shine”.

Food heats on the stove.  Dishes heap together on a towel, drying.  Gleamingly familiar dishes ring the table; space for five.  We gather hands to ask Him to join our sixth, ten minutes across town, in a hospital bed.  The sixth who will proceed us.  The sixth from whom we came.  Tears form; loose and fresh; but as our short prayer ends we gather them back.  Our hands release and we clink glasses.  Food warms our stomachs, candles warm our faces, and the joy of simply BEING in each other’s presence welcomes His too.