In the back bedroom of a hospitable home
on sprawling shaded lot in Magnolia, Texas,
lies an adult little girl; disabled but beloved,
dear daughter and sweet sister named Kim.
She’s a redhead, age 52, curled in bed, mute;
a child of God, reflecting his image; like Him,
her eyes always seeing (open even in sleep)
and her ears always hearing (primary sense).
What a privilege to meet Kim, touch her hand
as she rests in sanctuary of clean sheets and
sunny windows; surrounded by hum of vital
equipment, carried gently by sacrificial love.
Holy ministry happens here on a daily basis,
offered by her mother, who dedicates all her
nursing skills, the tenderest days of her life to
care for, love on, feed, turn, and talk to Kimmy.
Dedicated to Kim Feenstra, who lives with her precious family (and a condition called micro-encephalitis).