I arrived early in the morning to begin my day as chaplain on duty. After checking in I made my way to the pediatric chronic care unit to check on Martin. Martin was thirteen years old and, due to many birth complications, had spent his entire life in and out of the hospital. He had fought fiercely and bravely in the midst of countless obstacles, but it was clear his strength for battle was waning. And so, on a midwinter’s Sunday morning, the vigil began.

As the day wore on he would struggle increasingly for each breath. His mother sat loyally at his bedside, full of pain, full of love. Throughout the day other visitors would come and go, but there she remained. In between other calls I spent as much time as possible with Martin and his mom. For the first time in my life, I got an inkling…