When Love Shows Up in the Small Things
This past season has been one of the hardest I’ve ever walked through. Hospitals, procedures, recovery, and all the unknowns that come with unmanaged pain have a way of stripping away control and leaving you vulnerable. But in the middle of the pain and uncertainty, God has shown me something beautiful: love often shows up in the small things.
Friends brought Chick-fil-A to a hospital room. Someone made a special run just to deliver a simple Coke from McDonald’s. A thoughtful Starbucks was left at my doorstep once I made it home. Neighbors showed up with supper. Co-workers took it upon themselves to stash snack presents in every single drawer of my office desk. There for several hours, there were surprise gifts to unwrap every time I opened a drawer to unpack boxes and get my new office space put together! Friends called just to check in. Pastors and deacons came and prayed over me with boldness for healing. And countless unknown prayers—lifted up by people I may never even know—sustained me and gave me strength to keep going.
As if navigating my own health journey wasn’t enough, this season has also carried the slow, heartbreaking reality of my father-in-law’s decline. We have lived with the tension of expecting each day to be his last, yet he remains with us. For my husband, that has meant being pulled in two directions: torn between being at the hospital with me, and at home with his mom and siblings during his father’s final days. The burden has been heavy. He has wanted to be fully present with me in my moments of weakness, but also with his family as they walk through the valley of saying goodbye. Watching him carry that weight has deepened my gratitude for every friend, neighbor, and church member who has stepped in to help shoulder the load.
Galatians 6:2 says, “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” Those words came alive to me through every act of kindness, whether big or small. Healing has not just been about what doctors did for my body, but also about what the body of Christ did for our family’s soul. Every meal, every prayer, every visit, every cup of coffee reminded us that we weren’t walking this road alone.
The truth is, I’m usually the one who loves to give, to serve, and to care for others. But in this season, I had to receive. And that’s humbling. It’s not always easy to let people take care of you, especially when you see your own spouse stretched thin and weary. Yet God has used these moments to teach me that receiving is also an act of grace. Letting others serve us gives them the chance to be the hands and feet of Jesus, and it reminds us that we are not meant to carry our burdens alone.
Looking back, I realize that these weren’t just small gestures—they were lifelines. They were reminders of God’s nearness, tangible proof that His love flows through His people. The prayers, the meals, the calls, and the visits were more than kindness—they were part of our healing.
So today, I carry a deeper gratitude not only for my recovery but also for the beautiful truth that friendship, prayer, and presence are some of God’s sweetest medicines. And I pray I never forget the lesson He has taught me in this season: love doesn’t have to be extravagant to be extraordinary. Sometimes, it looks like Chick-fil-A, a Coke, a home-cooked meal on your doorstep, or a prayer whispered in faith.
Because when love shows up—even in the smallest ways—it carries the power to heal and to hold us steady, even in the heaviest of times.