Warning, this blog will be about my faith.

Since I have lots of time in the hospital, I thought to share my next post:

Not many people know that I am a PK (pastor’s kid). My 3 sisters and I grew up in the church. We sat third row from the front on the right side. Every. Single. Sunday. For me as a kid, this was a slow form of torture. Not only that, but I had to wear an appropriate church outfit and my hair had to be done and not in my typical tom-boy ponytail. My eldest sister would brush through my tangled hair and try to braid my hair all while arguing with me to sit still. I was a joy. As I got older, life happened. Things changed. We moved. Then moved again. Then my parents divorced and I chose to move out with my Dad. I eventually went to Taylor University for college. The college my two older sisters attended (and eventually my younger sister as well). It was familiar. Small. Christian. I played basketball. Do I wish I’d gone a different route for college? Bigger, not Christian school? Maybe. But I didn’t and looking back I can see the ebb and flow of my life. The good seasons and the hard seasons: in my marriage, with our kids, through job changes and in it all, my faith has kept me grounded. I love me some Jesus and I love a well-timed cuss word. I call it balance. And as I grapple with my cancer diagnosis and now being in the hospital with my tumor bleeding, I still don’t understand. I have so many questions for God. I have some anger (ok, a lot) but I know God is big enough to handle my anger. And my sadness and any other emotion I am feeling. So in this season, I am choosing to believe that God is near and God is with me and God is for me and my family. Why? Because I sat in Sunday school in my church clothes with my beautifully braided hair to sing the Bible tells me so and I choose to believe that today.

EIM