The Potency of Kindness

 Is kindness as potent as medicine? I'm starting to think so. 

Last week I really wanted to give up. It all felt so hard and so disheartening. It was a perfect storm of a difficult chemo cycle (including Emma growing molars!) and I really didn't know how to put one foot in front of the other anymore. 

And then my people showed up. On Instagram and Facebook you all told me to stay strong and keep going. In my texts and on written prayers dropped off at my house, you all told me that God was with me and that I could do this. You all believed in me. You believed that I was indeed mighty, and you prayed for me. 

As I read each and every word of encouragement, I felt my body shore up a bit. My strength reserves started to feel a little more full, and resolve crept back into my bones. 

Simple words were my medicine. (Along with a bunch of actual medicine, of course.)

With these simple words, like being told I was prayed for by someone who doesn't even believe in prayer, I started to remember other strengthening things. 

I started to remember the miracles.

Like the seemingly nutty little lady from Alaska that walked into a remote cabin on a pond in Maine where we were staying with friends, and turned out to be a retired breast surgeon. She told me of her last case, an extraordinary miracle, where a young mom with a deadly prognosis was found to not have a SINGLE cancer cell in her tissue after treatment. An unheard of ending in the cancer world. 

Or the nurse whose daughter had a rare and fast-growing cancer in her 20s (and I was certain she was going to tell me she had died) but is still alive and without a recurrence on her 40th birthday. 

Let's consider the fact that my cancer, that should not have been there, was found so early by a fluke appointment and a routine MRI that it had not even infiltrated the tissue it sat next to. Or my white blood cell counts that have held strong, even though last time I did chemo, they dipped to the lowest possible number and never recovered. 

These truths, and others, reminded me that the darkness doesn't last. It didn't make the physical pain easier, but from the moment I got diagnosed God has been giving me stories of miracles, and that makes the mental strain easier. God has been reminding me that He IS STILL the God that preforms miracles. For goodness sake, He literally raised my nephew from the dead. Let me tell you that story one day. THAT is the God I serve and love! 

I feel so strongly that in all of the difficulties of this chemo regimen, God has been gentle and kind with me. 

My favorite Bible story is in the book of Numbers when Moses tells God, "please, just kill me, for this burden is too much for me." God replies, "Gather some people around you and they shall share the burden with you so you do not have to bear it by yourself." 

You all are actively helping me shoulder this burden. You are strengthening me with your words and love. I am so thankful for every happy tear that I shed because of the outpouring of love, kindness, and generosity we have received. 

Your love and kindness has been as strong as medicine. 

It has healed me. 

And because of it, I know I will make it through.