I walked what seemed to be a mile on high heels, while crossing the bridge that links Emory Hospital to its parking garage. It was Sunday morning, and most visitors had not arrived yet. The hallways echoed with the sound of my shoes, and in my heart, a haunting sadness lingered. Only 30 minutes earlier, I was sitting at my Sunday School class, waiting for the teacher to start the lesson, when a friend tapped on my shoulder: “Did y’all pray for Joy?” she asked. I gasped. My fears were Continue Reading