Every so often, I will post on here one of my Facebook memories that pop up so you can all see the journey that lead me to today.

Enjoy.

“God, oil, prayer, USA”

Last night I invited an elder from my church to my home. His wife and son came with him. He had stage four cancer and God cured him. I was in pain from my cancer shots, and exhausted. But I knew in my heart this was what I needed.

We talked about his path and treatment. We talked about his son’s struggles and how God is helping him.

I showed them my necklace I wear all the time that my brother Rob gave me. The necklace with Joshua 1:9 on it.

Their son?

He pulled out the same exact necklace. And his name is Josh.

I saw him rubbing it at times when speaking of his troubles. I don’t even know if he realized he did it, but I find myself holding it when I am scared, rubbing my thumb over the words.

I told Josh that I remembered one day in bible study how he sat in class with us. He teaches my daughter’s confirmation class at that time, so he is never there. (I’m usually the youngest one there… by about twenty years or so.) I remember this young handsome man saying how his friends question him why he is so dedicated to God. He said he couldn’t imagine not believing in God and having faith and hope. His words struck my heart that day.

My friend Cathy said the same exact thing to me last week.

An hour before they came to my house?

My former school nurse Jacquie types the same exact thing.

3 times.

Three has been my number, as when something happens three times, I know it’s God whispering, “This is the way”.

Three children.

The trinity.

Three wise men.

Don’s wife told me about another friend of hers who prays with her.

Her friend?

A girl I went to high school with.

This girl is also friends with Matt, a man I work with. A man whose sister was just diagnosed with breast cancer. The sister went to get chaga mushrooms and the women at the booth at the farmers market said she needed to find me. Her brother called that week and gave her my number.

Six degrees of Keven Bacon has changed to three degrees of Keri Stromski.

Either you believe or you don’t.

I believe.

My belief holds me and carries through my darkest hours.

The old Keri was resentful of the time I had to spend at church to get my daughter confirmed. Then I slowly came to love it. Then I got cancer, and now I know the devil gave it to me to test my love for God. Just like Job, chapter 2.

Stupid devil. I haven’t questioned once my love for God, or His love for me.

Nice try, Satan. Move along.

Last night, they all put their hands on me, anointed my head with oil and prayed.

When they finished, I asked if I could do the same to Josh. I didn’t know what to pray, but the words came from my heart as I spoke.

I am cured.

God knows it.

He loves me and is using me to show others how amazing He is.

Our country is so divided and full

of hate. I found my tumors the week of Election Day.

I left Sloan for good on Inauguration Day.

The darkest period of my life coincided with so much strife in our beloved country. It’s time we all take a deep breath and move forward together.

Our country needs more love, faith, hope, kindness, courage, and God.

And dancing and hugging.

We could always use more dancing and hugging.

So thank you, to this God loving family that came over to bless me and pray with me.

This was my second anointing.

I am cured.❤️

Back to present day Keri. I just left church and saw this family. We all still pray for each other.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri