Seeing Chris so weak during radiation was scary. Formerly robust and full of vitality, he became skin and bones, sleeping a lot, and looking like “death warmed over.” I struggled to keep a strong front, holding a tsunami of emotions in. Occasionally, billowy waves crashed over me, destroying my façade.
Many mornings I’d have a smile on my face as I kissed Chris good-bye before I went to work. But as soon as I got in my car, tears started flowing, and I cried all the way to the office. My client and his wife, Jay and Lou Ann, were so compassionate. Having worked with them for more than a decade in their home-based office, we’d become close friends. Seeing me walk in the door with a shiny red nose and bloodshot eyes, they knew I was having a rough morning and let me cry on their shoulders while they comforted me.
The material I had read on combating cancer stressed the importance of having a strong support system. Our system at home was invaluable, with people providing meals and professional massages, sending emails and notes of encouragement, calling and visiting, sending CDs of church services we missed, and praying for us. Friends and family got us through tough times and played a vital role in Chris’s recovery. Their food nourished our bodies, but their kindness touched our hearts and revitalized our spirits.
We were amazed by people we’d never met who reached out to us. One special prayer warrior was Amy Smith, a friend of Janet Johnson, whom I’ve been friends with since we were both in kindergarten. Janet asked Amy to pray for us, and she did. She left encouraging notes on Chris’s blog and occasionally mailed cards, saying she was praying for us. A year after Chris passed, I spent a weekend with Janet and Amy, and we had such a sweet time together. What a blessing to finally meet the woman who had faithfully prayed for my husband and me. His death had left such a hole in her heart that her own husband asked her, “How do you know this guy?”
“I don’t know him—but I do know him,” she answered, weeping.
Such was the impact Chris’s blog had on her and her own spiritual walk. The power of her heartfelt prayers and notes of encouragement from this complete stranger touched us just as deeply.
This is the day after Chris’s first of fifteen radiation treatments, and he wasn’t feeling his best. Patty brought us a meal at our hotel.
We were worried about not having a support system in Houston. But thanks to Chad’s college friend Devin Carroll, who had moved to Houston with his bride, Stephanie, a support system developed. Stephanie brought us a home-cooked meal at the hotel. Then her Bible study group adopted us. Devin’s mother, Patty, whom we had never met, drove forty-five minutes to bring us food she’d prepared herself. She even brought me a gift basket of bath items to pamper myself.
We were grateful we didn’t have to go to a restaurant for every meal. Leaving the hotel was physically exhausting for Chris during radiation, and deciding what to order was more than he could mentally handle when he didn’t feel well.
It was hard for us to learn to accept help from others, but through talking with those who were blessing us, we learned that we were, in turn, allowing God to bless them. What a disservice it would have been to deny them an opportunity to experience the joy of helping someone in need.
In everything I showed you that by working hard in this manner you must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, that He Himself said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”
—Acts 20:35