Nothing Common About Colds

Hey, there she is! Hi, hyphenated! Get better! Get better!

My cold went through half-a-dozen stages and has mostly faded, but Milady became full-blown clobbered by the bug yesterday; fortunately, she's able to sleep. And sleep. You give me hope she'll be up again someday, too.

Great Father of all the Heavens, have mercy upon your mortal children stuck in the often-blissful but frequently-distressing soup of earthly life. Give us strength to endure what you require of us, faith to remove mountains of unnecessary difficulty and disorder, and wisdom to appreciate which is which. Thanks for all opportunities to serve, in whatever capacities. (Add your own in Jesus' name or amen as preferred.)

Huh. Now I want soup.