We stop at a truck stop near Kings Dominion in Virginia for a bite to
eat and discover a tiny truckers chapel welcoming all to "Enter to
Worship, Depart to Serve." I snoop inside and find four pews facing a
single altar adormed by a simple cross made of two sticks held
together by twine.
"Leave your prayer concerns on the altar," reads a sign near the door.
I walk forward, again to snoop, and read the first concern. It's from
O.C. and my heart breaks: "My dear Rose and sweet Kevin, I can finally
let you go."
Loss is so painful. So permanent. God can and does heal. Especially