I love rainy days. I like how rain smells and sounds. I like how it changes the look of everything. I like that rain brings life.
I used to love icecream. I’ve recently become lactose intolerant, so the pleasure of it is not worth the pain. But thanks to a wonderful little pill, I ate a Wendy’s frosty last night for the first time.
I loved it when Susan Bailey sent me a lasagna dinner all the way from Redding, just because she wanted to encourage me.
I love it when people ask me how my mom is. Or how I am doing. It’s always on my mind. While I’m watching the rain, or eating icecream, or planning dinner. My mom’s face is always there. Right next to the lasagna.
I hate it when people who think my faith is ridiculous try to encourage me by saying, “Well, we all need something to get us through the day.” As if my faith is relative. As if we all get to choose what matters in life. As if our opinions or beliefs have any bearing on who God is. Because they don’t. God is. With or without me. I’m just grateful that He DOES love me and want me; that He is my rescue in the midst of this tumbling ocean called cancer. Don’t tell me He’s not, because from where I’m standing, in the midst of the fire, He’s crystal clear. I knew Him before this, and I know Him now. He literally is the breath I’m breathe every second of every day.