I had my hearing screened this morning as a class requirement. I haven't had my hearing tested since I was in elementary school, I am sure. I worried as I walked in with the graduate students who were performing the screening. What if they discover that I have a hearing loss? What if I have had a communication disorder all along and never knew? What if... what if?

Mom told me last night that Sam's stuttering is more pronounced lately. My heart breaks, not because of the realization that he will probably never be fully cured, but because of the realization and terror on his face when he recognizes this fact. "Mom," he cries wide-eyed, "my stuttering is coming back!"

What? When he realizes that there is no known cure for his massive disorder that affects millions of lives of children? When he realizes all the years of therapy will not make him completely better? What then?

They had me perform all of these defining actions with my mouth and tongue. "Say 'pa' until we tell you to stop... okay... now 'ta'... good... now 'ka'.... mhmmm... yeah, now 'pataka pataka.'"

"What if I fail? What if I cannot do it? This is how my baby brother feels." He sometimes cannot perform these simple demonstrations of normalcy.

Does panic and fear grip him at the thought of forever finding simplicity a challenge?

I love that God has given me a passion to make simplicity simpler for those I meet. I may never fix everything, I may never make simplicity into pure simplicity... but I may make it simpler for whatever it is worth.