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When I am the sulking older child

When I am the sulking older child

Looking at the parable of the prodigal son, I so easily see only the grateful father running to meet and greet his prodigal, dirty, dishevelled son. But the part of the parable that sometimes confronts me personally is seeing this same dignified father going out of...
Breathe!

Breathe!

From the depths of general anaesthesia I could hear the surgeon (also a family friend) calling to me: “Breathe!” at which I obligingly took a deep breath. This happened after a routine operation where the anaesthetist couldn’t get me to begin breathing on my own...