"May we live into our truest calling as people who give and receive grace, forgiveness, and love.",  Emily P. Freeman

The thing about hardship—whether it’s a prolonged illness, a frightening diagnosis, the loss of a loved one, or any other kind of trial—is that it strips away our filters. We’re often running on empty, caught in survival mode, and just trying to make it through the day. Whether you're the one in the thick of it or walking alongside someone who is, those moments tend to surface our deepest patterns and coping mechanisms. As Brené Brown puts it, fear often sends us running back to our “old friends”—those ingrained habits we developed to protect ourselves. I can only speak for myself; mine aren’t pretty.

Throughout my life, I've faced my share of challenges: the sudden loss of my spouse and the task of raising young children alone, supporting my beloved parents through their cancer journeys and eventual passing, and navigating my own diagnoses with breast cancer and multiple myeloma. Through each of these seasons, I’ve come to deeply value the practice of self-inquiry—pausing to ask, Why am I reacting this way? What’s driving this behavior? 

Understanding the “why” behind my responses helps me recognize my patterns in real time—and, more importantly, gives me the power to choose a different response.

In the early days, I leaned hard into self-sufficiency—what a hollow illusion that turned out to be. Thankfully, over the years, I’ve been surrounded by a circle of extraordinary women committed to growth, rooted in faith, and willing to walk together in truth and vulnerability. Their presence—and my willingness to be honest with myself and others—has transformed how I face hardship: with more grace for myself and those around me.

Grace is unearned kindness—a gift given freely, with no strings attached.

When I show up—whether as a patient, caregiver, or friend—I try to lead with grace. Here are some examples of how that looks like for me:

• Assume best intentions. Most people are doing the best they can with the tools they have.

• Be gentle with myself. Some days are just heavy. When the tank is empty and all I can do is show up, that’s enough. Grace starts within.

• Understand how my loved ones respond to stress. Everyone has their go-to survival patterns. Don’t take it personally. Recognize the effort, offer grace, and release what’s not mine to carry.

• “Should” is a red flag.
  Whenever I catch myself thinking in “shoulds,” I pause.

• They should know how sick I am — but have I told them?

• They shouldn’t ask such clueless questions — but have they ever walked this road?

• I should be able to do this without help - why would I shut out those who love me and want to help?

• I should get off the sofa today — maybe I need a rest day b/c treatment is hard!

• They should (fill in the blank) — but is that fair or just my expectation talking?

“Should” often carries the weight of unspoken needs or unrealistic expectations. Catching it gives me a moment to breathe, reassess, and maybe extend a little more grace—to others and to myself.

At the end of the day, grace is what helps us stay human in the middle of the mess.