When Grace Knocks Softly

Last week, I was caught in a storm I didn’t see coming. It rose quietly, then crashed with a force that left me breathless, unsteady on my feet, the earth lightly shaking, with my heart skipping beats. I had just been moving through a new rhythm of caregiving, tending to my husband’s healing with steady hands knowing my soul was stretched thin, but feeling I had caught hold of a new pace and had steady hands again.

Just as the storm threatened to swallow me whole, a lifeline arrived.

A phone call. Voices I hadn’t heard in far too long. Two of my closest friends from high school, reaching across time and distance to say, “We’re coming.” No fanfare. No questions. Just presence.

As they began to travel,  a quiet storm was blowing, my husband took a turn for the worst. I ended up calling an ambulance because he was so sick. The squad came and took his vitals and said he might have a slit virus but directed me to call the hot line at UVA transplant for direction. Needless to say, he ended up back in the hospital for several days. A nasty infection was starting to form in his bladder and he could not fight it off.

My friends arrived like anchors—steady, grounding, familiar. I had been drifting in the undertow of exhaustion, and I was frayed, unsure how much longer I could hold it together. But for 48 hours, I was held.

This act of kindness cracked something open in me.

In a world that often demands performance, their presence was a soothing balm. They arrived with no agenda, no expectations, just a quiet knowing and a willingness to sit beside me in the mess. I brewed tea for us, we cried, we laughed at memories that felt like lifelines. And in those hours, I remembered: healing isn’t always solitary. Sometimes, it’s a shared breath. A hand on your back. A reminder that you’re not alone in the storm.

This is a reminder to me about always thinking I have all the answers. It’s about the sacredness of being witnessed. About the kind of friendship that shows up unannounced and says, “I see you. I’m here.”

When they left, it felt like they’d been here for months. Their departure was quiet, but the imprint they left was loud with grace. I don’t know how to describe that kind of love—only that it felt like being seen, nourished, and restored in ways I didn’t know I needed.

The Ripple Effect of Healing

Our journey toward healing and wellness is not just for ourselves. There is always someone, somewhere, who needs us to be present for them—to offer support, comfort, and stability when life’s storms hit. When we are committed to our own well-being, we are better equipped to show up for others. We can be the ones who hold steady, offering a gentle touch or a reassuring embrace when the waves and wind are crashing around them.

Healing with intention allows us to extend that same care outward. By being intentional with ourselves—nurturing our minds, bodies, and spirits—we cultivate the capacity to be intentional for others. Our wellness creates space for us to hold others in their times of need, just as we have been held. In this way, our personal healing becomes a gift we can offer to those who need us most.

Go start your journey of Healing.