When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

All I could see when I looked in the mirror was grief.

“Grief is a wolf we keep locked in the basement,” said grief counselor Shelby Forsythia.

The older I get, the more uncertain I am.