Molly.

She didn’t let me take too many pictures of her because she thought the flash was lightning.


She’s been gone 5 days now and I’m trying not to talk about it because as much as she frustrated me rolling in dead stuff, well, I don’t want to believe she might be dead somewhere.

This morning, Kimmie was taking Sarah to school. Kimmie is my best friend and Sarah is Zane’s.

Kimmie handed her a dollar for chapel and Sarah said, “Did Molly come back?”


(This is hard for me to talk about.)

We’re guessing that the reason Sarah asked (when handed the dollar for chapel) is that she must be praying for Molly in chapel. Which we have been, too. Every.single.morning before Phil leaves for work.

It has changed from, “Please bring her back.” to “If she’s not coming home, please don’t let her be suffering.”

It’s hard enough for me to accept. Sarah’s cat Sturdy, who was 15, just ran away a couple of months ago.

Now Molly.

If feels like 9 is too early for a little girl to learn that sometimes our prayers don’t get answered the way we want.

At 37, it’s hard to learn that prayers don’t always get answered the way I want.