Some of my most enjoyable conversations over the past two-plus decades have centered on the question, “How can you believe in a God who allows bad things to happen to good people?” In fact, some of my favorite convos have been with those who disagree with me over this question—not because I’m super smart or persuasive, but because I’ve lived at the crossroads of suffering and faith for so long, I welcome the chance to talk about the elephant in the room (and the pain behind the question).

The veil feels extra thin today… like gossamer or tulle. And while I may be living my best 90-year-old life right now (*snort*), it helps to know there’s a reality so much bigger and better than this present one—a fact that makes today deeply meaningful and worth living to the hilt.

I can’t believe it’s been over four months since my last update when I said, “I hope to write another update soon…” I know my silence has been worrisome, so I do want to be more faithful to communicate. But I’m still finding it hard to put this phase of things into words. As a stop-gap measure, I’m gonna copy-and-paste my July 29 Instagram update below. Strangely enough, right now it’s easier for me to write within the constraints of a word limit like Instagram’s… but I do hope to send a more heartfelt update soon: a sooner-than-four-months-from-now soon. 😉

Okay, I’ve guzzled two cups of organic black decaf low-acid mold-free coffee and am ready to attempt an update. ? I’ll say it again: There’s no vocab for this journey, so I just kind of stab at words and pray they make a wee bit of sense.

Dear readers, Below is a collection of emails I’ve sent to friends regarding my second, and terminal, cancer diagnosis. I’ve edited out the more personal information so that these updates can be passed along freely. My prayer is that the beauty of Jesus shines brightly