People Matter Most
Acts of kindness make me cry – they always have. And when I say they make me cry, I mean that the sight of someone being selfless and caring towards someone else leaves me a snotty mess. I like to think that genuine acts of love affect most of us in some way. It’s like watching a miracle, isn’t it? There have been moments when I felt so powerless, and then someone said something at just the right moment, and it felt like God was using them to tell me that everything was going to be okay. Seeing that kind of special reassurance happen for someone else is absolutely incredible.
Blessed God!
His love is the wonder of the world.
Trapped by a siege, I panicked.
“Out of sight, out of mind,” I said.
But you heard me say it,you heard and listened.
-Proverbs 31:21-22 the Message
One of these moments happened right at the start of my mother’s cancer battle in late November of 2016. A little something you should know about my mom before I proceed with the story is that she had a severe (and I mean severe) phobia of needles and doctors. Unfortunately for her, the last 12 or so years of her life were filled with health struggles that forced her to confront this fear more than she was ready to. By the time she went in for the biopsy that ultimately led to her cancer diagnosis, she’d already gone through several surgeries for hernia removals and a hysterectomy. On the day of her surgery, she was so tired from all of her other health issues, she was in pain, and she was terrified. I knew this, so I tried to be there for her the best that I could. Usually, the doctors would allow me to go with her for just about anything (even MRI and CT scans because she would cry and I was the only one who could calm her down). But I couldn’t go with her into the OR, and the thought of her crying in there on that operating table all alone broke my heart. I sat in the waiting room and silently prayed for most of her surgery. When the nurse finally called me back to see her in the recovery wing, I wasn’t ready for what my mom told me once she woke up.
I sat holding her hand, and nervously asked her how it went. My mom looked at me and smiled as she said, “I really like Dr. Miller.”
Seeing her smile made me smile, and when I asked her why, she said, “When they first wheeled me in there, everything was so bright and cold. A bunch of people wearing masks surrounded me on the table and it freaked me out. I tried to calm down but I couldn’t, and when they tried to put an oxygen mask over my face to knock me out, I started crying. I started asking them to just let me leave, but then Dr. Miller took the mask off her face and held my hand like you are now. She leaned down to look me in the eyes and told me she would take care of me and everything would be okay. She held my hand until I fell asleep.”
I really liked Dr. Miller after that, too.
“Nothing is more appealing
than speaking beautiful, life-giving words.
For they release sweetness to our souls
and inner healing to our spirits.”
-Proverbs 16:24 The Passion Translation
Oh my gosh, just typing this out has me weeping right now, just like it did then. For Dr. Miller, it was just another day at work, but this was my mother that she loved in a moment when I couldn’t. This was the day we found out my mama had stage 2 squamous-cell carcinoma - but she began that incredibly difficult ordeal with her doctor holding her hand, telling her everything would be okay. I don’t believe this is a coincidence. Kind acts like this never are. And even though my mother would pass away a little over a year later, in a strange way, everything did turn out okay in the end. God continued to send us loving moments like that one every step of the way to reassure us He was there. Today, I like to think that after so many years of pain and health issues, my mom finally gets to rest (no more needles or hospitals!), and that God is comforting her far better than I ever could.
Dear friend, I know that life can be busy and complicated. I know that a lot is asked of you and there are times when it is far easier to look away from someone, or lash out at them for being “difficult.” My mom, when she really started panicking, could get so worked up she would become unreachable and inconsolable in her fear. There were many appointments I took her to, where medical staff would casually wheel her away for an x-ray or some blood work, and moments later, a frazzled tech would rush down the hallway and beg me to come talk with her. I knew she didn’t mean it, but my fear was always that someone else wouldn’t know this and they would make her feel even worse. Someone comforting my mother like she was their own had a ripple effect that spread from her to myself – I still feel it today. Because when you love someone I love, you show love to me, too. This is what love does, it links. I don’t know if Dr. Miller even remembers that moment, but it still comes up around the family table, and the sting of our mother’s loss is eased by the kindness we saw showered on her when she needed it the most. There are so many other moments I could share with you, so many other nurses and doctors who knew how horrific chemo and radiation is and tried to help in their own ways. There were strangers who opened doors for her, an amazing woman who donated a wig and made my mom feel beautiful for the first time in months after she lost her hair. I could list so many small things that people did, that gave us hope as a family, but instead I’ll just say: be kind to people. Please be so, so kind. Don’t rush to assume the worst in someone, because everyone, in their own way, is just trying their best
There are people who are really hurting in this world today, and looking at them, you aren’t always able to tell. Yes, for my mom, you could see it on her and so hearts just softened when she was around… but my siblings and I carried the weight of her pain as well. I watched my mom die, devastating and slow, over a period of 13 months. It took me 2 years to feel like myself again after her death, and even now, there’s part of me that left with her, one I don’t think I’ll ever get back. Life has taught me that there is more to everyone you meet than what your eyes can see – this is what makes us so complicated, but so priceless.
“In everything you do,
be careful to treat others in the same way
you’d want them to treat you,
for that is the essence of
all the teachings of the Law and the Prophets.”
– Matthew 7:12 the Passion Translation
Out of everything valuable on the planet, there is nothing as priceless and worthwhile as you. People matter so much to God, more than anything else, and I think that sometimes it takes suffering to show us why. Personally, I know what it’s like to cry out for help and have no one come. This changes you; having no one show up for you makes you want to be someone who hears a cry for help and responds. It teaches you the cost of suffering alone, because you yourself have felt the void left behind by that. This is why kindness makes me cry – I see a person who once felt alone going out of their way to make sure someone else knows they aren’t. Empathy is a powerful balm that soothes everyone involved. How could God not be in the midst of that?
“But the fruit of the Spirit
[the result of His presence within us] is love
[unselfish concern for others], joy, [inner] peace,
patience [not the ability to wait, but how we act while waiting],
kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.
Against such things there is no law.”
– Galatians 5:22-23 Amplified
The world is full of suffering – people losing their spouses and children, friends, and loved ones to sickness and violence, war and genocide. There are people toiling away for pennies, struggling to eat. But the world is also full of people trying to lend a hand, opening their arms, calendars, homes, and wallets to help. There are still people who understand that people matter more than anything – more than our schedule, more than money, more than even our comfort. We don’t get a lot of chances to truly show someone compassion, so we have to take them when we can. When the moment is gone, it’s gone. When a life is gone, we can’t get them back.
“Above all, have fervent and
unfailing love for one another,
because love covers a multitude of sins
[it overlooks unkindness and
unselfishly seeks the best for others].”
-1 Peter 4:8 Amplified
None of us knew it back then, but there was a clock ticking that started the moment they began my mother’s biopsy. Just like that, the final season of her life began. We encounter people, and step into their story, each and every day – stories we usually know nothing about. Who knows how long their journey has been, or what they have overcome, or how much time they have left? Most of us are just trying to make it to the next step along the way. I never want to make someone else’s life harder, or leave them in a worse place after knowing me. How about you?
Let’s pray this simple, but potentially life-altering prayer:
“Lord, make us all channels of your comfort. Show us how to love and value people like you do. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Love you
-Kelly
Here are some photos of my beautiful, vibrant, free-spirited mother. I’ve never met a woman stronger than she was, and I miss her every day.
