Redefining Strength in Dark Moments

In a world that often equates strength with stoic resilience—never cracking under pressure, never admitting defeat—I’ve come to see a profound truth: true strength isn’t about banishing despair; it’s about embracing it. Living with metastatic cancer has taught me this lesson in the harshest way. There are days when the weight of scans, treatments, and uncertainty crushes me, leaving me in a fog of hopelessness. But pretending it doesn’t exist? That’s not strength; that’s isolation. Instead, I’ve learned that admitting vulnerability opens doors to deeper connections, grounding me in purpose amid the chaos.

Take my relationship with my life-long best friend of 43 years. We’ve shared everything from childhood giggles to adult heartaches. Even now, I make it a point to reach out at least once a week—sometimes just a quick call, other times a leisurely lunch where I spill my fears without filter. “I’m scared I’m not strong enough to keep trying new medicines and especially chemo again if it comes to that,” I confessed recently over salads. Her response wasn’t pity; it was solidarity. She shared her own vulnerabilities, reminding me we’re in this together. That honesty doesn’t weaken me; it fortifies our bond, turning solitary despair into shared strength.

Then there’s my son. We talk every day about “real things”—not just the weather or work, but the raw edges of life. “Mom, how are you really feeling today?” he’ll ask, and I’ll admit when the pain is overwhelming or when doubt creeps in. These conversations keep us close, reminding him that vulnerability isn’t a flaw; it’s human. It’s how we build trust, ensuring he knows he can lean on me too, even as I navigate my own storms.

My estranged daughter is a tougher chapter. I reach out at least twice a week—texts, calls, but all go unanswered-even though I truly believe she still loves me deep down but the political divide is what made her pull away from me. I just wish she could still see me as the mother who loves her more than anything and would do just about anything to fix our relationship. But when treatments leave me bedridden or emotions spiral, I slip, missing a week or two. The guilt piles on, a revolving door of procrastination. Yet, in those messages, I’ve started admitting my regrets: “I miss you, and I’m sorry for the distance. Some days are harder than others.” It’s vulnerable, exposing my imperfections, but it’s a step toward healing. 

And my Bible group? I’ve neglected it for months, letting fatigue and shame keep me away. The guilt cycles endlessly—procrastination feeding despair. But I’m building the courage now to return, to say, “I’ve been struggling, and I need your prayers.” Admitting that isn’t weakness; it’s an invitation for grace.

This ties into what I call “Metastatic Hope”—hope that transcends the physical, meta meaning beyond. Metastatic cancer’s relentless advance could drown me in despair, but by turning vulnerability into openness, it becomes a testament to enduring faith and love. Sharing with a caregiver, like my sister who checks in daily, or these loved ones, reminds me my purpose isn’t solitary survival; it’s relational thriving. And no one has been here for me more than my loving parents! While money is tight for all of us and I don’t want them wasting their retirement funds on me, they help where they can and have never turned their back on me. I thank God for them every day! Faith isn’t unwavering optimism; it’s trusting God in the mess, loving fiercely despite the pain.

Redefining strength means feeling the despair, then reaching out. It builds bridges, not walls, keeping us grounded. In my darkest moments, vulnerability isn’t surrender—it’s the spark of true resilience, illuminating a path of hope that cancer can’t extinguish.

Three Bible verses to reflect on:

1.  2 Corinthians 12:9-10 (NIV):
“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
This verse speaks directly to the idea that admitting vulnerability (weakness) allows God’s strength to shine through, redefining what true strength looks like.

2.  Psalm 34:18 (NIV):
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
This verse offers comfort in dark moments, reminding us that God draws near when we’re honest about our despair, fostering a deeper connection with Him.

3.  Galatians 6:2 (NIV):
“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”
This verse emphasizes the importance of sharing struggles with others, like reaching out to a friend, family member, or caregiver, to build stronger bonds through mutual support.