Over 55 Years in the Mines
I’ve seen the sun dip below the horizon more times than I can count, its light fading as I walked away from another grueling shift.
The weight of the work has settled into every bone, every muscle — a constant reminder of what it takes to survive down there.
It hasn’t been easy, no. But through every sweat-soaked moment, I built a life. I raised my family, made sacrifices, and discovered something deeper than strength itself.
True strength isn’t in the arms or the back… it’s in the will to endure, to rise every day and never, ever give up.

Please Continue to Pray for Colton C.
A heartfelt update from Colton’s mom, shared just yesterday:

“After a long day of waiting, with no food or water, Colton finally went back to the OR around 3 this afternoon. He returned to his CVICU room around 6, and we are so grateful to report that he is doing very well. The procedure was a success. The surgeons went in to clean the chest site and place an arterial line. When they explored further, they found that instead of infection or pus, it was more of a fluid pocket where the bone hadn’t fully fused yet. The wound vac had been drawing in fluid, which created a small pocket of liquid. They deep-cleaned the area, took some cultures just to be sure, and placed some strong sutures. Most importantly, they were able to fully close his chest at last!  No more wound vac, no more wet-to-dry dressing changes! He now has a small drainage tube, which should come out in a day or two. He’ll return in 2-3 weeks for suture removal. Sternal precautions will start again for another 6 weeks, but we’re hoping he’ll be able to go home on Wednesday or Thursday! “

Thank you all for your continued prayers and support for Colton — we’re so close to the end of this long journey.

A Nurse’s Heart: A Single Mom’s Strength

Sometimes I arrive at the hospital before the sun rises and leave when the city is already asleep. I’m a nurse, and I’m also a single mom. Between shifts, my biggest fear isn’t the long hours or the exhaustion. It’s missing the little moments of my child’s childhood: the first drawing, the silly dance in the living room, that “goodnight” that smells like blankets and warm milk.

In the quiet of the hospital corridor, I hear cries, sighs, and goodbyes. I carry stories I’ll never speak aloud, the weight of every patient’s pain tucked deep inside me. But then my phone vibrates, and I see my child’s smile — and for a moment, I breathe. He’s still too little to understand, but it’s for him, and for every patient, that I put on this uniform every day.

The ones who care for others don’t always have someone caring for them. There are days I come home so exhausted, I wish for just a hug, or a simple word: “thank you,” “stay strong,” or even, “you make a difference.” Because behind this badge, there’s a woman who, too, feels afraid, lonely, and sometimes wonders if she can keep going.

That’s why your kind words mean everything. When someone says, “thank you for what you did for my family,” my heart fills with strength no medicine could give. In that moment, the weight of a long shift feels a little lighter, and I remember why I chose this path.

Next time you meet a tired nurse, remember: besides being a professional, she might also be a single mom, a daughter, a caregiver at home. A simple “thank you for taking care of us” might be the hug she didn’t get today.

Because the people who care for the world also need to be cared for in words. To every nurse and single mom no one really sees, yet who quietly holds up the world: some of her strength comes from people like you who choose kindness.