Late start for me today.

Not to be too graphic, but when the bottom layer of skin comes off your foot, and there is a rash that’s itchy on your thighs and arms, you tend to want to stay in bed a little longer.

Happy vacation, right?

But I’m here.

People say that a lot.

“At least you’re still alive”.

And don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful to be alive.

But man.

It sure would be nice to be alive and not worry about death or side effects all the time.

A friend in a group posted that she would panic about the statistic of 116 dying every day, but then read the statistic that 3,287 die every day from car crashes.

As weird as that sounds, that makes me feel better. The thoughts that stage four patients have come to them are unbelievable at times.

We went through the basement toys yesterday and whittled them down even more. Morgan said she wants to keep her American girl dolls for her children and I prayed quickly inside that I would live to meet them.

I then rested on the couch the rest of the afternoon and watched a law and order SUV marathon. I hate that show, but yesterday I was hooked in by people with situations that felt worse than mine.

It was a hard day.

I am trying to keep off Facebook more, as seeing everyone in warm places or skiing makes me even more sad.

We might try to do something today with the kids, as it would be worse for me mentally to stay home again another day and watch SUV.

I’m working on trying to get Morgan confirmed. Please pray this all somehow works out. I’m still so angry at those men who sent the letter. Even if I sat with them as they demanded i do and held communion as ransom until I did…

I wouldn’t give up yoga or reiki or learning about other people and their beliefs. Would they have still denied me communion? And have my own daughter walk by me and see me denied communion?

They may have sent the letter to me, but they hurt my whole family.

Not very Christian.

Especially while we are going through all of this.

I shared a post yesterday that was amazing.

It spoke about how on Christmas night we celebrate the birth of a child. A child whose name I say probably a hundred or so times a day in my head, and even more so in the dark of night when I am caught in a storm of panic that death is coming.

Think.

Thousands of years after his births we still say His name.

People used to use the word “evangelical” to show their love and passion for Jesus. It’s been hijacked recently. People say they are

Doing things in His name, when truly, He would be ashamed of their actions.

Jesus stood among others as they were ready to throw stones and asked, “Who among you is without sin?”

Church isn’t for the perfect.

It’s for the sinners.

Go ahead and throw those stones, but watch out for the ricochet.

I’m tired of people who love Jesus and tell

Others about Him being looked at as crazies…although I know firsthand some deserve that term.

I want to become evangelical this year but in a different way.

A new way… or an old way.

I want to love and live like Mary. Have full faith in Gods plan, even if it seems like what is happening is impossible. Pregnant AND a virgin? Impossible.

But because she trusted and had faith, she brought forth Jesus.

I want to live and love like Jesus.

Move away from those who don’t have the best interests of others in their heart and then walk the path of grace.

Ghandi said, “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”

Ouch.

But isn’t that true most days other than Christmas?

So this year, I’ll try and spend more time being kind and walking in grace and mercy and faith.

And yes, perhaps even flip some tables like Jesus did.

Watch me.

Come with me.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

Xoxo

Keri