Heavenly Sisterhood

The past few days have been challenging and emotionally overwhelming, to be honest. I’ve found myself brought to my knees more than once. Learning that the cancer has spread has been a tough pill to swallow. And as if that wasn’t enough, today, a friend in Alaska lost her battle with breast cancer. That news hit me hard, in more ways than one.

Her death not only confronted me with my own mortality, but also brought deep sorrow as I thought of her children. I can still picture their sweet little faces, full of energy and spunk, and now filled with tears at the loss of their mama. It breaks my heart. I feel guilty that I wasn't there to hold her hand or hug those little ones. Yet, at the same time, I’m overwhelmed with joy knowing that my sister is home with Jesus. She is no longer in pain, cancer-free, and is saving a table for all of us with heavenly margaritas. 

The sisterhood was with her the whole way in this journey, though. A group of women I was blessed to be a part of when we were in Alaska, completely enveloped this family, and took four-hour shifts to sit with her so she was never alone at the end. I am amazed by these women time and again as they care for one another, accept each other without judgment, and pour out love to everyone around them. They all struggle with life, but they are not alone in the strife. These women have been prayer warriors for me, even though we are now 4500 miles away. God has brought this group of truly remarkable women together to be the church, and they walk as beautiful examples of Christ in the way they love and serve.  To these women, you know who you are; thank you for teaching me how to love others better. 

In the absence of this group of women, I felt the need for some sisterhood connections here, and I reached out to a therapist this week because I didn’t want to add more emotional weight to my family. I needed someone to talk to—someone I didn’t have to protect from my feelings. I even tried walking 2-3 miles each day to release some of the emotion, but I knew I needed more than movement. I needed conversation and understanding.

The appointment was interesting and a little unexpected. It was scheduled for 20, so I spent the first five trying to sum up everything I’m facing—my own fear, my diagnosis, my grief for my friend. The counselor listened with such compassion, and then she said, “You are not alone. I, too, am a breast cancer survivor.”

And in that moment, I exhaled. I didn’t have to search for the perfect words. She already knew.

She began to share her journey from her diagnosis in January 2023, going through a mastectomy, reconstruction, chemo, and hormone therapy. She gave me the truth in the highs and lows and celebrated being cancer-free in October 2024.  “However,” she said, “on Monday, I found out the cancer is back. It’s in my spine, and I am now stage IV. There’s nothing they can do. I had to take yesterday off to process it all.”

My mind went completely blank. All I could say was, “I’m so sorry. How are you doing?”

She talked honestly about the rollercoaster of her emotions about how sometimes, you just keep moving even when you’ve received stage IV news, which is treatable, but no longer curable. And then, our time was up. She asked if I wanted to meet again next week. I was so caught off guard, I said, “If you want to meet, we can.”

After I hung up, I literally laughed through my tears. What just happened? It took me the entire day to process it.

Initially, I had planned to cancel the next appointment. But then today, as I prayed for my friends in Alaska who were grieving our dear sister as she made her way home to Jesus, I felt something shift in my heart. I realized that maybe this therapist could also benefit from having someone to talk to. We can hold space for each other. So, I’m going to keep the appointment. Even if all I do is listen.

Because sisterhood is vital.

I may not have many women physically near me right now, but I am deeply blessed. I have made new friends and am excited for those connections to grow. Plus, every single day, women in my life text me songs, prayers, scriptures, and send their love. They call to check on me and send me great places to hike when I'm healthier. Some call, and we curse cancer out together. Others make me laugh over the most ridiculous things. We cry. We pray. We show up for each other.

And I am deeply grateful for this sisterhood and for a God who has brought us together. To all of my sisters who have reached out to me during this cancer journey, thank you. Each text, prayer, and sweet gift uplifts my spirit. You bring me joy, and I am so honored to call you sister. Those of you not pictured, we'll take some photos when we're together again soon. To all my sisters, I love you.