Loving the Lost, Lonely, and Missing
I see the young man walking down the highway almost a mile before I pass him. I watch him walk with his head down and hunched shoulders as though he expects to arrive without assistance wherever the road takes him. I wonder who he is, where he has been, and if someone somewhere is missing him. My heart aches for him, for those who love him, and for myself and the son who is never far from my thoughts, so as I pass, I pray.