What do you do with a God who allows bad things to happen to those he loves?  That's the question that I've asked audiences all around the country.  But it takes on a whole new frame of reference when you've just been told by your doctor that he will soon refer you to a transplant team.  I DO NOT WANT TO HAVE A KIDNEY TRANSPLANT.  HEY, GOD, ARE YOU LISTENING?  Yet it seems that unless i want to be on dialysis the rest of my life, i really don't have much choice, like it or not.  When?  I'm not sure.  Probably sometime within the next twelve months, but that's only a guess, and that's assuming that I can find someone willing to loan me one of there kidneys.  They are more than welcome to have it back when i'm done with it.  But i'm digressing to morbid humor, something i usually excel at, but i'm just not feeling funny right now.  Sarcastic perhaps but definitely not funny.

So what do you do?  When you've cried all the tears and told all the bad jokes, there is only one place to go, and that's to the cross,  At least for me, there is no other place to go, because the only hope worth hanging onto is the hope of the cross.