There’s a kind of friend who doesn’t flinch. You tell her the true version — the unedited one, the part you were sure would be too much — and she just leans in and says, me too, tell me more.
We want to be that for you.
Ann and Jenny — friends first, writers second, both of us still figuring it out.
Here’s the plain truth of it: between the two of us, we’re walking through chronic illness and cancer. The scans and the waiting rooms. The bodies that stopped cooperating. The phone calls that split life into before and after. The soaring hope and the crushing disappointments.
We’re not writing from the far side of all that, tidy and finished. We’re writing from inside it and just past it — with the mud still on us — because that’s where most people actually live, and it’s lonelier, harder out here than anyone lets on.
And somewhere in the middle of it, we kept finding God. Usually not in the way we asked for. Almost never on our timeline. But He keeps showing up.
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.
— 2 Corinthians 1:3–4
That verse isn’t decoration. It’s the assignment. Whatever we’ve been carried through, we hand it forward. Because Scripture says to bear one another’s burdens (Gal. 6:2), and illness humbles you into needing each other.
Come sit with us.
