To know the love that surpasses knowledge


The Counterfeit Christian

My oldest daughter lay shivering under covers last night, the warmth of my body powerless to calm her feverish chills. “I’m so tired of being sick,” she said for the third time that day, and probably the tenth time since her fever first appeared on Thursday. The thermometer beeped, and she almost imperceptibly lifted her arm so I could slide it out. 103.4. She is normally quite proud of her own high body temperatures, so I was surprised when she didn’t even open her eyes at the beep or ask what the number was. She must have felt terrible. “Still pretty hot,” I reported. She didn’t respond. I set the thermometer on her night-stand and turned again to face her. I combed my fingers through a tangled mess of her brown hair. I scooted down her bed until my face was level with hers. Forehead against forehead, nose against nose…

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