I went and saw Emily last night. She was beat up, but not as badly as you'd expect someone who'd been thrown from a car to be. She was still in ICU because they're worried about her spleen. She was in pretty good spirits considering everything she'd been through in the past 36 hours.

I mentioned to one of my coworkers that I was going to the hospital after work to see a friend in ICU. She said those kinds of visits were hard. I guess they are, but I'll take an ICU visit over a funeral visitation any day. Maybe it's hard to know what to say, but I guess I've found it doesn't matter too much. Look at Job. Job lost everything, then was struck with leprosy, so then he went out to the town dump and sat there. His three friends went out there to be with him and spent a week there with him, without a word. Then when they finally did speak, they said, "You idiot!"

During those times, I think it's good to remember the words of Mark Twain. If God had wanted us to talk more than we listen, he'd have given us one ear and two mouths.

I looked into her eyes and saw someone who's fighting, but she's tired, frustrated, and impatient. What I didn't see was someone at the end of her rope. I could tell she looked into my eyes and saw someone who cared. I didn't really have to say much else.