Darian's Not So Secret Diary

So much of what is going on feels out of my control, I'm just doing what I'm told because, well, I don't want to die just yet. Mom and I always had a very open, good relationship. She was my best friend, really, and for a long time, my only friend. There wasn't much we wouldn't share with each other, nothing was off limits. But her cancer, was very private for her. I had to text my brother, because I couldn't remember if she shaved her head either time, and something about not being able to remember that made me feel horrible. I know that she would say how disgusted she was, waking up with literal mouthfuls of hair, and how she looked. But she never said much beyond that, and then one day she just didn't have any hair. My brother told me she shaved it. The first time, I didn't think much of it. She still looked like my mom to me, just bald.  She still had her smile, still had her cackley laugh, she still felt like mom when I hugged her. The second ti

So God and me, we have this deal you see. I tell him I'll listen to him and trust his plan, but he just has to be very clear and very loud when telling me what to do. You know, because maybe sometimes I'm a little hard of hearing, have headphones on, am a little stubborn, or I'm not listening and just didn't realize it. So I ask him to be loud. Like, really loud, so his voice is louder than all the crap  fluttering through my brain. Sometimes it takes a hot minute, but usually the message gets through, and then I thank him for the help in scooting me along his path. But lately, I'm just not gettin' the message. The last few weeks, either in quiet times, casual reading, Facebook, everywhere, the same verses keep popping up. 2  Dear brothers and sisters, [ a ]  when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.   3  For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.   4  So let it grow, for when