"God doesn't ask us to move mountains. That's his job. He just asks us to move in faith."

My friend Riley once told me, "God uses everything," and at the time he told me that, it didn't mean that much to me. But over the years, I've witnessed it firsthand. God has used all of my downfalls, the twists and turns of life, and upsets for good and the good of his glory. I'll say it a million times in this blog: We all face trouble, but God intends to create wisdom and goodness out of our wreckage—and we would be dumb to ignore those gifts.
I can't remember all the landmark dates in this journey with cancer, but I will remember one: December 30, 2022, because that's the day I started chemo. That day marked the day I would begin to physically experience healing. God could snap his fingers at any time, and
I would be healed. But God has put me on this path of healing for a purpose, so I'll try my hardest to put on a brave face and remember that this is how I will get better. I know he's done it this way for a reason, and it's because he has something for me to do or something for me to learn. I know I'm right because God began flooding my mind with purpose ever since my diagnosis. He's keeping me busy!
One of the first action items God put on our agenda was this blog, but the next one on the docket was a weird one. I felt this need to help people who were also battling cancer. I wanted to gently remind the Creator of Heaven and Earth that I can barely take care of myself at the moment, let alone help another cancer patient, but something told me he wouldn't like that too much. So, he sent me an idea. Once my treatment was over, I would kneel at the chair and pray over who would be sitting there next. It requires hardly any sacrifice to do that but is a powerful way to help others in my shoes. God doesn't ask us to move mountains. That's his job. He just asks us to move in faith.
Here's the light bulb moment: We go through bad stuff so we can help others get through bad stuff. If you're going through a hard time, ask yourself (and God, if you're cool with that), "Who's next, and what can I do?" The answer to these questions may not be revealed for years to come, but when it clicks, it clicks. Stand at the ready.
It's hard to think of other people when your world is on fire, but if given the opportunity to turn in all your ash for treasure, would you decline the offer? Helping others is one of the most fulfilling acts we can ever experience in this life, and I have certainly been helped by those who have chosen to use their past troubles for present good. I think of my friend Anne, who has mentored me personally and professionally while I've lived in DC and continues to mentor me through my walk with cancer. I think of my friends Kyle and Elissa, who have cared for cancer patients and use their wisdom to help me through this season. I think of my nanny, who survived breast cancer and will answer all the weird and gross questions that I don't want to ask my doctor. God set these folks on my path to help me through this tough time. They didn't let life happen to them and move on. They have been willing to use their hardship for a bigger purpose. How rewarding is that?
When the storm hits, it can be paralyzing. All you care about is getting through it. All you care about is the light at the end of the tunnel. I daydream about my final treatment almost every day to feel just a tinge of relief. But listen: Don't let the end of your hard chapter be the only thing on your mind. There's work to be done before and after those pages.
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