I’m Not Proud to Be a Christian. (Just: grateful, humbled, in awe of God’s grace to me, the list goes on.)

I sometimes find myself wanting to wave a flag and declare:  I’m proud to be a Christian. Except. I’m not. It’s Pride Pressure. Pride pressure is when you see a bunch of facebook posts that (basically) threaten to judge you if you don’t post your “pride.” Some even imply that… Read more“I’m Not Proud to Be a Christian. (Just: grateful, humbled, in awe of God’s grace to me, the list goes on.)”

“Sorry, Pat Benatar. Love is not a battlefield. It’s time to stop fighting about it and start living it”

    Shout out to my girl, Pat. We’re on first name basis, of course. I actually call her Patty, she calls me Betty. (Long story.) ok. That’s a lie. Any way,  thanks , Pat, for inspiring my love of black leather, sassy short hair and for warning me that love… Read more““Sorry, Pat Benatar. Love is not a battlefield. It’s time to stop fighting about it and start living it””

Fierce Faith: When it’s not “okay,” and may not be.

  “It’s okay.” “It will be okay.” These are the words I use to try to convince myself and others that it will be, “Okay.” They are not usually words I use when it actually IS okay. “It’s okay.” “It will all be, okay.” Are the words other people use to… Read more“Fierce Faith: When it’s not “okay,” and may not be.”

The Cost of Integrity, The Value of a Cupcake.

“SCREEEECH” I (Unfortunately) recognized the sound as soon as I heard it. It was the sound of bumper scraping bumper. Even worse? I was turning into a parking spot at one of my places of respite the bookstore.  I was also on a mission…. the mission did not include my… Read more“The Cost of Integrity, The Value of a Cupcake.”

Scarily Brave. In Which I do What Doesn’t Make Sense- Because It’s the Right Thing to Do

“For such a time as this.” The words were spoken to Esther centuries ago…… and they’ve been moving me forward through fear and insecurity for years. Nudging me. Step by step. Somedays the words are whispered in response to my prayers- others-they are loudly proclaimed while I put my hands… Read more“Scarily Brave. In Which I do What Doesn’t Make Sense- Because It’s the Right Thing to Do”

In Which a Heated Chair and an Allergic Reaction are Not the Same Thing- How We Survived Chemo Day 1,

Monday, we spent the day at the Cancer center. We needed to be educated to “choose” my husband’s next treatment plan. The whole idea- I find dumb. We are not doctors, how on earth are we supposed to choose? We didn’t even sleep at a Holiday Inn Express the night… Read more“In Which a Heated Chair and an Allergic Reaction are Not the Same Thing- How We Survived Chemo Day 1,”

The Week That Changes Everything- Again. Or, not. Even Here.

I’m not a fan of storms. I’m terrified of them, actually. They send me into a fury of violent cleaning and running of all household appliances to avoid the crash of thunder and the sight of lightning. (Violent cleaning- one of my healthier coping skills- trust me. We’re talking Cross-Fit… Read more“The Week That Changes Everything- Again. Or, not. Even Here.”

Even Here- When the nest is so high- I can’t even see the eggs….

The momma robin dive bombs anyone (She’s not a fan of our dogs.) who come way too close. Poppa bird stands guard on the playscape. He’s ever-ready to protect his family while simultaneously making quick outings for their sustenance- and covering the eggs while momma bird does the same. That- and a… Read more“Even Here- When the nest is so high- I can’t even see the eggs….”

Judged for Faith- By People of Faith…. Can we just please, stop? It’s not helping. I promise- I’ll stop fighting, too.

*****Dear Friends- First: This post is NOT pointed at any person- people I know. It’s about an ideology/theologies that have been hurting us during our cancer battle. The truth is I’ve been bumped by this everywhere from Target to restaurants and the Cancer center. There are versions of this that… Read more“Judged for Faith- By People of Faith…. Can we just please, stop? It’s not helping. I promise- I’ll stop fighting, too.”

Let’s pray- When Prayer is Autonomic….Automatic? Straight from the Soul.

His lips move. There are no [audible] words. This, is not normal. Not for my very Italian (AKA: genetically loud) grandfather. The bruised,twig like-bruised arms, the stubbly chin or the hospital bed that I see him in are also not normal.  For my whole life  I have seen him looking… Read more“Let’s pray- When Prayer is Autonomic….Automatic? Straight from the Soul.”