This is one of those late mornings where you don’t need permission to feel sluggish.
The kind that clings to a person’s chest until the sun is fully up and absolutely refuses to leave.
She knew most people would just scroll past, because nobody really wants to see something ugly, especially when it’s authentic.
But she still shared those two photos because they speak a truth that words cannot fully express.
In the first picture, people will see what they want to see.
A happy family.
Gentle smiles.
Peace.
A child stands by the water, being baptized, their faith shining brightly and purely.
And that part is true.
Little by little.
But the second picture carries a meaning that no one would recognize without looking closely.
Exhaustion was etched on her face.
A type of fatigue that sleep alone cannot cure.
That’s the kind of fighting on all fronts without ever taking off your armor.
In the second photograph, she is holding her soaking wet child, clinging not to appearances, but to God himself, praying for the strength to stand firm.
That morning was terrifying.
Not hell in the figurative sense.
It’s not a tragic hell.
But that’s the kind of evil that silently appears in a house and destroys everything sacred.
Everything that happened between those two photos was a battle.
A person who never gives up.
A battle where joy struggles to survive while chaos seeks to engulf it.
A place where faith is tested with every breath.
Where blessings and despair coexist, both demand recognition.
This is the true image of cancer and a journey of intimacy with God.
Not filtered.
Not yet polished.
Insecure.
The day started off quite difficultly, and that didn’t surprise her.
A few months earlier, a Christian mentor had warned her that this day would come.
They said that if the enemy couldn’t break her faith with Will’s cancer alone, he would start attacking everything else.
And now everything is going exactly as predicted.
Her career is on a downward spiral.
Her family is falling apart.
Her marriage is in trouble.
All the most important places are under pressure.
What impressed her most was the order in which everything was hit.
It feels like everything is turned upside down.
It’s not a coincidence.
It’s no coincidence.
It seems that the most powerful part within her is reached by first stripping away the outer layers.
That morning, she arrived at the church rather late, burdened with shame that weighed more heavily than her coat.
Ashamed because of the storm raging inside her.
Embarrassed by the chaos that had taken place in her house just hours earlier.
She felt embarrassed that she couldn’t simply leave it down in front of the church door.
The robbery was the first crack that never fully healed.
She still can’t forget about it.
Even now, she refuses to revisit that detail.
Being both a victim of a crime and having spent 25 years in law enforcement has had a profound impact on her psyche.
It honed her skills in ways she never expected to lose.
It silently killed the passion she once had for a profession she deeply loved.
A job she’s always present at every day.
A role she performed very well.
Now, she is preparing to leave her twenty-five-year career, but not in the way she had imagined.
That truth weighed heavily on her heart.
She prayed for the fire to be rekindled.
She prayed to God to rekindle the passion that had once fueled her purpose in life.
But it didn’t come back.
Through prayer, reflection, and painful honesty, she began to understand that this ending was not a failure.
It’s a protective measure.
She was asked to leave before being shaped by standards she had never believed in.
She chose to believe that God could see things she couldn’t see.
She chose to believe that the closing door meant her heart was being protected from what was about to happen.
Then the fatal blow made the wound even more painful.
Her father moved away.
It devastated her life in ways she still finds difficult to put into words.
Over the past year and a half, she has finally built the relationship with him that she has longed for her entire life.
The idea of him living with them once seemed impossible.
He’s not the type of person to stay anywhere without asking to be paid.
He works tirelessly.
Excavation.
Concrete.
Wash using a pressure washer.
Changes to Will’s accessibility.
Always contribute.
He always tried to avoid ever feeling like a burden, even though in reality he never was.
They had known who had broken into their home for months.
They kept the truth from him.
She couldn’t bear the thought that he would feel guilty for inadvertently bringing someone into their lives who would destroy their financial security.
Then, someone in the community, someone completely unrelated to the incident, sat down and spoke with her father, informing him that people believed he had stolen his daughter’s money.
Its cruelty is horrifying.
She didn’t even know this conversation had taken place.
And even if she did know, she couldn’t tell the truth because the law enforcement investigation was ongoing.
On Christmas Day, she learned that he planned to leave at the beginning of the new year.
Two days later, he received a message requesting that someone be present when his belongings were collected.
Another message was sent, requesting a detailed list of outstanding debts or a written statement confirming that no debts existed.
At that moment, she was no longer a girl.
She was just a commodity to be traded.
She is not a woman going through the most difficult phase of her life.
Not a mother accompanying her child who has cancer.
These are just bureaucratic procedures formed from assumptions and silence.
The burden of all of that weighed heavily on her marriage.
Even so, they still tried to smile.
They reminded each other how lucky they were.
A healthy child.
Another person is no longer in pain and is living the best life possible.
And that was Christmas Day.
The season of Jesus’ birth.
And then that sacred moment arrived.
Will’s baptism.
She let everything else fill that void.
Exhaustion.
Maddening.
Fear.
Disappointment.
She didn’t handle the situation well.
Words that shouldn’t have been said have been uttered.
A tense atmosphere hung over the entire house.
She remained silent and walked away.
Then, completely unaware of what was happening, one of Will’s closest friends looked at her and said something that left her speechless.
He told her that their family was an inspiration to many people.
She just showed her worst side.
And at that moment, she understood something profound.
Inspiration doesn’t come from perfection.
It was born from people who were hurt but still managed to emerge.
They arrived at church five minutes late.
She cried throughout the worship service.
She hugged Will, begged for his forgiveness, and asked him to pray for her because she was going through a difficult time.
When he didn’t immediately squeeze her hand, the embarrassment deepened.
She realized how much control she had let fear take over.
When the ceremony ended, Will turned back, looked at her, and whispered that everything was alright.
He told her that he loved her.
At that moment, she realized that God’s love was greater than anything that was trying to steal their peace.
It has always been like that.
It has always been like that.
That battle was real.
But that is also a blessing.
And they will continue to move forward, even on days when things feel unbearably heavy.
