I think once again about your brother and sister-in-law, god-awful uncertainty as they await the news. I almost hear their parental oath, or nearly so since the legal process started with his birth, this infant boy they're hoping to adopt who's been exposed to heroin and meth. How much so they don't know yet, but expect the tox screens will soon appear, announcing extent and consequence.
Till then their prayers are ample, open to inscrutable will, yet not remotely serene. The couple's caught up in their frequency. Naturally they're solicitous to gain everyone's lifted pleading, fruitful and keen. So when asked if I will pray, I sense it's the least, potently least, I can do as they do their best outside the NICU. So blessings upon your family, both immediate and extended. (I mean
your family, but then again the prayers too, lifted by air across hope's mezzanine.)