COVID hit our house this week. Sean is on the mend, for which I am so thankful. Ean has tested negative, but hasn’t felt the best. He and I will both be testing before the weekend is out to find out where it has spread since I’m now symptomatic, as well.

I don’t miss the days spent hiding from this. I don’t like remembering what the pneumonia felt like and being afraid it will come again this time. I hate COVID as much as I ever have.

But I’m so thankful for all of the things that were learned throughout the pandemic. Crossing barriers, borders, miles, I got to sit in and listen to my amazing Momma present to a group of health and ministry professionals about trauma and trauma informed care in both settings tonight.

I am beyond blessed to have been raised by Beverly Smith Bateman. It’s the primary way I have become who I am. (Like me or not, you have her to thank for a lot of it.) We dive into discomfort together, and I am so thankful to see a long history of growth behind and to be looking forward to much more as we kept learning and leaning in.