Wednesday, July 26, 2017


Growing up Catholic, I prayed a lot. Every night before bed, for a while on Sundays. Even in college after I had forsaken religion, I used to pray to help fall asleep. I pray occasionally now, but more as a meditation than as an actual discussion with the higher ups, though if they are listening all the better.

I can tell you one thing I know for certain: prayers don't work for getting your kids to sleep and in regards to college football.

(I'm not trying to get deep here so I won't talk too much about the fact that I understand prayer doesn't mean you are trying to change the outcome of something but rather that you are in many ways looking for strength to get through it as such.)

All that being said, I love prayers. I love it when people pray for me. Love it. I was raised Catholic and my peeps are religions and I believe in their power of prayer.

So tomorrow I am having this giant surgery to get this gross cancer out of my body (most of you know this because I have talked to you on the phone and if you don't I'm sorry you are are hearing this way) and everyone is praying for me! And all I want to say is I like it, it means a lot to me, and keep em coming baby.


It also might mean you don't hear from me on the blog for a bit. Apparently the typing motion makes it difficult for the boobs to heal so you aren't really supposed to type very much. Who knows?


Randi said...

I will pray for you, buddy.

Ang said...

you are covered dude.

Christine said...

I don't normally pray, but I will for you. xoxo