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I Think God Just Swore at Me in the Kitchen. It Changed Everything.
A Raw Look at Spiritual Clarity, Existential Risk, and Why Language Doesn’t Limit God
We hadn’t planned on going anywhere.
When you live with cancer — especially the kind that’s technically incurable — you stop making plans. You learn to live in increments. Three-week cycles. Scan-to-scan. Treatment-to-treatment. The future becomes something you don’t look at directly, like the sun.
Then, one evening, we caught up with some friends. Nothing big — just dinner, conversation, the kind of night you half-drag yourself into and end up grateful for. At some point, they mentioned a trip they were planning. Just casually. A getaway with their kids. Something to look forward to.
I don’t remember which of us said it first.
“Should we go somewhere?”
It was half a joke. Half a dare. The kind of idea that comes with no expectation of action. But we didn’t shut it down. And that was enough.
The next day, I booked flights. No accommodation. No plan. No real discussion about how we’d pay for it. I just did it. Because sometimes you have to outrun the voice in your head telling you to be sensible. Sometimes you have to make a decision that…
