I’m proud to say this article was first published on The Anchor Gathering, on October 7, 2025. The Anchor Gathering is a Christian organization based in Gig Harbor, WA that supports women facing storms without an anchor. This vibrant tribe shares the hope we have in Jesus to encourage and anchor one another in faith and friendship. Definitely check them out.
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month—a time to honor the survivors, remember the
fighters, and remind every woman to pay attention to her body. One in eight women in the
United States will hear the words “you have breast cancer” in her lifetime, and early detection is
still one of the most powerful tools we have. That’s why scheduling your annual
mammogram—what I like to call the “squishogram”—matters so much. Awareness saves lives,
and stories remind us that we are not alone in the fight.
“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: if either of them falls down, one can help the other up.” – Ecclesiastes 4:9-10
The Gift of Friendship
Back in 1999, I found myself in a book club with a group of incredible women. As young mothers
with toddlers, those monthly gatherings weren’t just about books (though we always bought
them!). They were sacred. We’d show up ready to discuss the “read of the month,” but instead,
we told our own stories—laughing, crying, sharing wine and Pinterest-worthy hors d’oeuvres.
Those women became my soul sisters. A miracle of friendship planted right in my path—guides,
partners in crime, encouragers in the hardest season of early motherhood.
“And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds… encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” – Hebrews 10:24-25
A Tribe with Purpose
In 2002, our tribe decided we wanted to do something that mattered. I was training for my first
and only marathon when I saw an ad for the Susan G. Komen 60-Mile Walk for Breast Cancer.
I thought, If I can run a marathon, I can walk 60 miles. We started training, building our
callouses and our stamina. Running was my church—a place to pray, cry, and meet Jesus
without life’s constant interruptions. Step after step, prayer after prayer, I was unknowingly
putting on the armor of God.
“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.” – Ephesians 6:10-13
We donned pink capes with the names of those we loved and set out through the streets of
Seattle to celebrate the breast cancer warriors who fought so bravely. We slept in tents on high
school football fields and nursed our blistered feet with Neosporin and moleskin.
Note to self: being able to run 26.2 miles does not mean walking 60 will be a breeze—turns out
blisters don’t care about your marathon medal.
The Diagnosis
Sixteen years later, I sat in the doctor’s office and heard the words no woman wants to hear:
“Invasive ductal carcinoma.” Stage 2a breast cancer. The world blurred, as I realized I had
joined the club I never wanted to belong to.
My world became a list of treatments:
● Mastectomy = mutilation
● Chemotherapy = near-death poisoning
● Radiation = burning
● Aromatase inhibitors = a debilitating “afterlife” for 5 years
I called it the “one-in-eight lottery.” My first thought was: What did I do to my body? I was a
certified health coach. How did I let this happen?
Then, I fought.
Through the nausea, the humiliation of losing my long hair, the nine surgeries. Through the
third-degree burns in my armpit. Through the crash cart waiting outside every chemo session
because my body reacted violently. Through the seven years of remission and the after effects
that never end.
My scars became graffiti across my chest and torso—abstract art marking a war on cancer. I
was completely rebuilt from the inside out.
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” – Psalm 147:3
The Miracle of Survival
By the grace of God, I survived. Barely at first, but I survived. And seven years later, I can say I
am thriving.
The truth is—God had been preparing me all along. That tribe of women, those long runs in
prayer, the lessons of perseverance—piece by piece, I was putting on His armor long before the
diagnosis came.
God’s Faithfulness
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and
not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11
Even in the darkest hours—when my body was failing, when I felt stripped of everything that
made me “me”—His grace and mercy carried me. I found a grit and perseverance I didn’t know I
had.
And through it all, I learned this: miracles don’t always look like parting seas or instant healings.
Sometimes, they look like a tribe of women who carry you when you cannot walk. Sometimes,
they look like scars that remind you of survival. And sometimes, they look like the quiet strength
that only God can plant in you for the fight of your life.
Remember the paralyzed man in Luke 5:18-20? His friends carried him on a mat, lowered him
through the roof, and laid him before Jesus because they believed healing was possible. That is
the miracle of friendship and faith.
If you haven’t scheduled your mammogram this year, let this be your nudge. Your life is a gift,
and your story matters—God’s not finished with you yet.
Closing Prayer
Dear Lord,
Thank You for carrying me through the valley of cancer. Thank You for the women who became
my tribe, for every doctor and nurse who fought alongside me, and for the scars that now
remind me of survival and grace.
Help me to see my body not as broken, but as redeemed. Help me to use my story to
encourage others—to be the friend who carries someone to Your feet when they cannot walk on
their own.
I am alive, Lord, and I will thrive in Your name. May my life be a testimony of Your faithfulness,
and may I never forget that You make beauty from ashes.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
Originally posted on The Anchor Gathering on October 7, 2025.
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