God's Not Dead 2 Read Free Page A

kind.
    I give him a casual, it’s-all-good shrug. “I’m good at giving colorful sound bites that sound intelligent but don’t really mean anything when you analyze them.”
    He lets out another laugh. I think Len likes me because I’m always good for a few chuckles.
    “Do you do that with me?” he asks.
    “With you? Come on. When someone sets the standard as high as you do, there’s no justifiable rationale in attempting to even try anymore.”
    It takes him a moment to think about this nice piece of nonsense; then he shakes his head. “You gonna use that material on your date tonight?”
    “Hopefully I won’t have to.”

5
    $28,439.32
    Amy looks at the medical statement she just opened and feels a bit numb. This is the total after receiving the financial aid she requested.
    I wonder where the thirty-two cents comes from.
    She slips the statement into a stack of bills that she keeps in a red folder marked Medical . Amy wonders if maybe she should have chosen another color. Sky blue, perhaps. Or pink. Something a little more peaceful and hopeful. Not bloodred.
    Amy doesn’t have the time or the energy to sort through this bundle of statements and invoices and records. She knew from the beginning that insurance would only cover some of the costs, including just a portion of those ridiculous charges forthe chemo. She was the one to give them the okay to pursue a more aggressive treatment. This, of course, had also meant more expensive.
    That was back when she assumed Marc would come back around and be there. When she assumed life would keep giving her things on silver platters as it always had. She didn’t know her luck would finally run out.
    But I’m still alive, right?
    Maybe she’s fortunate, or maybe she’s simply lucky. Amy isn’t sure. She just knows about all the prayers she offered to God while battling triple negative invasive ductal carcinoma. This is what she always told people she had since the two-worded “breast cancer” seemed to be so commonplace that it had lost its meaning. God might have saved her life, but there had still been so many decisions she carried around with her. Like deciding to get a lumpectomy rather than a mastectomy.
    What did God think about that?
    Amy knows what a majority of the general public thinks. Most of the commenters on her blog told her it was the wrong decision, some citing medical percentages as a rationale while others became downright hateful about it, saying it was simply a vanity thing. She knows dealing with the trolls out there is part of the price she has to pay for having a popular blog, but some of those comments still completely floor her.
    As she opens the fridge to see what she can find for dinner, Amy decides she has more of a desire to write than to eat. Her first blog was called The New Left , and it exploded in popularity after her series of posts lambasting the Robertson family of Duck Dynasty fame. The Phil Robertson interview in GQ that made national headlines a couple of years ago was all too easy to gooff on. Amy and The New Left suddenly became a hot blog that people were sharing and talking about and even quoting.
    The lid of the microwavable dish is hard to open. When she finally succeeds, Amy wishes it had remained closed. A nice lump of mold covers the spaghetti sauce. She empties it into the sink and turns on the disposal. The rumble reminds her of what she did to her old blog and all the posts on it.
    They’re gone. All of them. She didn’t archive them or anything. Maybe she could find someone who could retrieve them somehow, but Amy knows she never will. Despite some really great writing, the articles all shared one glaring problem: they were mean. Some were downright vicious. Like one of the first posts about Willie and Korie Robertson, the husband-and-wife team who were and still are among the most popular people on the show.
    “The Idiot and His Trophy.”
    Thinking about that title and the words that followed it still makes