It’s all too easy to forget that all of our days are numbered, and no one bothered to tell us that number. We don’t think about it too much until there’s a ripple in your circle. I’m selfish, okay. I want my friends to have lots of days because I never want to lose any of you.
I told you; I’m selfish.
And I’ve already had more days than Amy has. She’s 32. She’s got two beautiful little girls, a 3 year old and a not yet 1 year old.
She’s also got cancer. A rare and aggressive one that’s already stage 4. Experts are being consulted and the fight is underway.
She can’t have too many prayers sent on her behalf. If you can spare some of yours, it’d be appreciated. I know, your lists are already a mile long. Mine too. So really, what’s one more?
I’ve known Amy her whole life. We’ve played in sandboxes and splashed in pools. She’s a strong woman with a good heart and a contagious smile. She’s also got big faith and knows this is all in God’s hands.
I. am. moved.
How many times have I wrestled with hopelessness praying for a miracle? Praying for healing or deliverance or…
Found via Matt Walsh
How very short-sighted of me. I worship a God that has promised eternal life free from pain and suffering. Free from worry. An eternal kingdom where miracles look like mere parlor tricks.
Miracles are a shadow of what’s to come, miracles are a temporary fix.
This is the most profound statement regarding the promise of the Gospel that I’ve heard in a long time.
I’ve prayed for a lot of miracles, and I’m sure I will pray for many more. I’ve seen miracles with my own eyes. But I hadn’t really thought about it that way. A shadow of what’s to come.
I stand amazed.
I suppose when faced so directly with ones own mortality, the fleeting nature of life is a bit more in focus. Funny that, since we have no promise of tomorrow. None of us do.
Abby is beyond miracles. Her fix is permanent. The promise is fulfilled.
Guess you’re just going to have to click the picture.
Told you the free ice cream machine was on the fritz.
Wear loose fitting long pants, they say. Tuck the hem of your pants into your socks, they say. So I ask you, who is more appropriately dressed for a day in the woods?
If you said me in the cargo pants with drawstrings at the ankles rather than my kilted and legginged* husband, you’d be wrong.
Behold, my knee
So itchy and oozy (not to be confused with Uzi, which is something else entirely). There are more bites, but I do try to keep this site generally safe for work. For those that would like to know, these were apparently conservative chiggers as they stayed exclusively to the right. Or maybe they were liberal chiggers attacking the right. Don’t bother alerting the media.
I hate chiggers. But I suppose it is awful hard to love a parasitic creature that wants nothing more than to liquefy your flesh for consumption. Mmm, scrumptious. Gosh, they seem more liberal all the time. Free ride, free meal, Occupy Jen’s right leg!
You see, this is why you should donate. Because, as noted previously, the kilt can tame the wild feline. It wards off flesh eating, non-PC sounding larval arachnids. And with your help, it can cure cancer. (And also, prizes)
*yep, I’m making up words again.
To say my cat has spent the last seven years frightened of Michael is really an understatement. It just doesn’t tell the whole story. We’re talking sheer terror. Like, losing bowel control terror. No, I don’t know why.
You see, I rescued this bat-eared feline from the construction site at my office.
No, he never did grow into those ears. I raised this little critter into the 18 pounds of pathetic mama’s boy that he is today. He has repaid me with lots of head-butts and snuggles and unwavering loyalty.
Until this happened
Click the picture to see Michael’s post
Yes, not only can the kilt raise money for a great cause, but it can tame the wild beast.
So go ahead. Donate. Do it for the kitty. Besides, you might just win a prize.
Borepatch posted a Haka from BYU
And you know, the haka is pretty darn manly. But being September and all, there is only one response.
As you all know, September is Kilted To Kick Cancer month and so
Yeah baby! Kilted Robot all month long. Here’s the link to his post. There will be prizes and shenanigans. The donation link is here. Let’s blow last year’s totals away! Ready? Go!
Why is everyone talking about Angelina’s boobs today anyway? I thought it was the leg that usually made headlines.
Kidding aside, good for her, and bravo for being public about it. A double mastectomy certainly seems drastic, but if you can reduce your risk of cancer from 87% to 5%, that kind of seems like a no-brainer. Yes, she’s another dancing monkey, but even they can be useful. I’ve known women that delayed treatment because they were afraid of losing their boobs. Yes, mastectomy and reconstruction is intensive, but it is far from the end of the world. Be proactive with your health. Don’t ever let fear get in the way of life.
And even after cancer, there is still beauty.
When this happens, I am apparently responsible
Zombie Moses in the hoochie mama summer casual uniform…
Well, you gotta admit, it beats Wayne LaPierre in fishnets and a bustier.
But I like it! If I can find a Charlton Heston mask, I’ll do Charlton in a hooker outfit and pushup bra if y’all put me in the top 3 in fundraising this year.
And now we have a glimpse into the madness that will be this year’s Kilted To Kick Cancer fundraiser. You might start saving your pennies now. September isn’t that far away.