I’ve heard apologists point to Mary at the empty tomb as evidence of the truthfulness of the Gospels. A woman’s testimony was inadmissible as a witness, so, if you were making up this story, you wouldn’t want to write that a woman was the one to see Jesus first.
But long before anyone was writing this story down, God was threading it together. And He chose Mary to be the one that day. Think about that for a second.
Today is my one-year anniversary.
It’s very rare to know the date of the day you got sick, but I know. Because over the past year I’ve seen over 20+ doctors and had to recount this strange story more time than I can count. At some point, early on, I opened up a note in my phone and began to track dates and symptoms so that I could update the Drs I was speaking with.
So here you go:
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I did my Masters in Cultural Psychology, and what that means is: I’m not much fun at parties. Especially when people start talking about ‘culture’ like it’s a set thing and I bust in and explain that: “actually, culture is defined as any process by which we make meaning”. I know. I know. WTF does that mean. (and how do I have any friends).
Happy V-day, my loves!
I love today. I have always loved Valentines’ Day. Much thanks to my mom, dad, BFF Andrea for always making me feel so loved on this day. Because of them, I have always believed V day is for singles, as much as couples.
But I’ll tell you what, single people – more than we need to redeem Valentines’ day – we need to redeem love.
I ended 2020 with Long Covid, a Staph infection on my face (that’s right ladies and gentlemen), and a concussion. (A window fell on my head. That’s not a metaphor. That’s classic 2020.)
What this means is that I started 2021 with extreme fatigue, constant headaches, random fevers, and an attitude that it would be benevolent to label ‘irritable.’
I started the year living in the studio behind my sister’s house. Seemed the perfect way to be cared for: they cooked me meals, gave me space, did my laundry. The one unforeseen complication is that I’m sort of obsessed with my nieces (aged 4 &1). It’s hard to prioritize laying in bed when a glorious little red-head asks you if you will come to her tea party and another glorious little red-head squeals when you accept the invitation.