My son has myocarditis. He was recently hospitalized four times within three weeks. A month ago, he barely had the energy to walk across a room. He’s better now (thank God for modern medicine) but it’s quite serious.  

Friends and family ask me what I need. They can’t fix the situation, nor can I fix their troubles, but here’s what I need. I need them to squeeze their own hand tightly into a fist when they think of me, symbolically squeezing my hand. Not an angry fist, but one that says, “I’ve got you.”    

I mean, sure, I need more than that. A visit here, a text there, prayers definitely. But in the quiet place of my heart, it’s just comforting to know that I’m loved. I’m peaceful in that quiet place. It’s where I can be still and know. (Psalm 46:10)  

And if you need me in the future, let me know how I can help, but you can be assured of this. I’ll squeeze your hand every time I think of you.