How to Begin Again – Part Three
A few days after I was admitted to the hospital last year, I received one of the most frightening diagnoses of my life.
The doctors told me I had HLH — Hemophagocytic Lymphohistiocytosis, a rare and severe disorder where the immune system essentially goes into overdrive and begins attacking the body itself. It’s complex, dangerous, and not something most physicians encounter often.
I could sense the tension in the room.
The doctors were thoughtful and careful, but I could feel the uncertainty. This wasn’t a straightforward case with a predictable treatment plan. There was a lot of watching, waiting, testing, and hoping that the interventions they had begun would start working.
In other words, we were in a place where medicine had begun its work — but the outcome was still unknown.
That kind of space can feel terrifying.
One morning during those early days in the hospital, I got out of bed to make my way slowly to the restroom. I was weak and unsteady as I made my way there. When I reached the sink, I leaned forward and gripped the counter with both hands.
Then I looked up.
And saw my reflection…
The woman looking back at me was someone I didn’t recognize.
Her skin had a gray cast to it. Her eyes were hollow and exhausted. She looked frail, fragile, and deeply ill — the kind of face you might see on someone who is much closer to the end of life than the beginning.
It startled me.
For a moment, I just stood there staring. I remember feeling shaken. Confronted with the reality of how serious things truly were.
And then something happened.
As I stood there holding onto the counter, I felt a sensation begin in my feet — almost like a current rising from the floor beneath me. It traveled slowly upward through my body until it reached my chest, where it felt like something opened in my heart.
Suddenly, I stood up straighter. My shoulders went back. And a deep, unexplainable confidence washed over me.
Not bravado.
Not denial.
Peace.
A quiet, powerful knowing settled inside me: You’re going to be OK.
In that moment, I knew — with a certainty that went beyond logic — that God had this. I didn’t have to carry the weight of the outcome alone.
That moment didn’t change the medical situation. The tests continued. The treatments continued. The uncertainty remained.
But something inside of me had shifted.
Fear lost its grip.
That moment at the sink stayed with me. It wasn’t just about seeing how sick I had become. It was about facing reality without filters. As leaders, we spend so much time projecting strength. We move quickly from problem to solution. We keep people steady. We carry responsibility.
But there are moments in life when you cannot lead your way out of the truth of what you are facing.
Standing there, looking into that mirror, I saw a version of myself stripped of all the roles I normally carry — leader, speaker, mother, businesswoman. None of those titles mattered in that moment.
All that remained was a human being standing at the edge of something uncertain.
And yet, in that very vulnerability, something powerful happened. The surge of peace I felt wasn’t about control. It was about surrender. It was about recognizing that I didn’t have to orchestrate the outcome.
That moment reminded me that leadership is not always about having the answers. Sometimes it’s about standing in the truth of the moment and trusting that you are not standing there alone.
Carried by Prayer
In the days that followed, we continued receiving news — some encouraging, some difficult. There were decisions to make. Treatments to try. Conversations with specialists.
Yet through it all, I realized something remarkable.
I didn’t feel fear.
Concern, yes. Awareness of the seriousness, certainly. But the overwhelming fear that many people might expect in that situation simply wasn’t there.
And I believe that’s because I wasn’t alone.
As word spread about what was happening, messages began pouring in.
Family members.
Friends.
Colleagues.
People I had known for years.
People I hadn’t spoken with in a long time.
Even individuals I had never met personally.
Emails. Texts. Phone calls. Notes. Messages through social media. People are reaching out from across the country and across the globe.
And in nearly every message, there was one common thread:
“We’re praying for you.”
At one point that summer, the doorbell rang in the evening. When I opened the door, there was a beautiful bouquet of calla lilies sitting on my front porch. There was a note attached.
“We have never met, but please know you are in my thoughts and prayers. I’m praying you feel God’s presence surrounding you, filling you with strength, peace, and comfort.”
I stood there for a moment, taking it in.
We had never met. When I reached out to thank this lovely woman, she told me she had felt prompted by God to pray for me — and to bring me those flowers. Wow.
At first, these prayers were simply comforting. But over time, I began to realize something deeper was happening. I wasn’t just receiving kind words. I was being carried.
Carried by the faith, hope, and belief of hundreds of people lifting me up in prayer. I had heard this before – the power of prayer, and the one being prayed for receiving a peace that passes all understanding. Now I was receiving this beautiful gift for myself. And I can say this with full conviction – the power of prayer is real. I felt it. I was carried by it. And through that, I experienced the miracle of healing.
The Strength of a Built Community
Several months after I returned home from the hospital, I was reflecting on everything that had happened with a friend.
I told her something that had been on my mind. Still astounded by the support I was receiving, I said to her, “I believe I am getting well as I have had people everywhere praying for me,” I said. “Friends, family, colleagues — people from all over the world.”
She listened and then said something that stayed with me. “You’ve built that community intentionally over many years,” she said. “You’ve been there for people when times were hard. Now they’re there for you.”
She was right.
Community doesn’t appear out of nowhere when crisis strikes. It’s built over time.
Through relationships. Through generosity. Through showing up for people when they need it most.
When life becomes difficult, you quickly discover who is in your corner.
And during my illness, Graham and I were humbled — truly humbled — by how many people were standing in ours.
Some of that community was built over years of friendships and shared life. And some of it came from spaces I had intentionally chosen to be part of, and help create, where people show up for each other, not just professionally, but personally.
One of those places for me has been IMPACT Global – a community Graham and I founded for faith-based entrepreneurs who share similar values, not just in how they build their businesses, but in how they live their lives. It’s more than a group. It’s a place where people genuinely care, where relationships go beyond transactions, and where support shows up when it matters most.
During this season, I felt that in a very real way. And it reminded me of something important:
If you don’t have a community like that — one that knows you, sees you, shares your values, and shows up when life gets hard — it’s worth building. It’s worth finding. It’s worth being part of something where you’re not alone when life shifts unexpectedly.
The Leadership Lesson in Community
Leadership can be lonely.
Those who carry responsibility often feel like they must carry it alone. There’s a quiet pressure to be the strong one, the steady one, the person others rely on. But one of the greatest lessons I learned through this experience is that strength is not the same as isolation.
Even the strongest leaders need community. Even the most capable individuals need support. And sometimes the most powerful leadership act is simply allowing others to help carry you.
Community isn’t a weakness. It’s infrastructure. It’s the network of relationships that sustains us when life tests our limits.
The Power of Prayer
Prayer played a profound role in my experience.
Some people talk about prayer as a ritual or tradition. But when you’re facing a life-threatening situation, prayer becomes something much more tangible.
It becomes a connection. Strength. Hope.
I believe those prayers mattered.
I believe they changed the atmosphere of my hospital room. I believe they strengthened my spirit when my body was struggling. I believe they created a sense of peace that allowed me to walk through uncertainty without being consumed by fear.
Faith doesn’t always remove the challenge. But it can transform how we experience it.
And when faith is combined with community, the effect is powerful.
Who Are You Showing Up For?
One of the reflections that continues to stay with me from this season is how intentional community must be.
It’s not something you wait for. It’s something you build.
Every message we send. Every call we return. Every moment we choose to show up for someone else.
Those are the bricks that build the community we one day rely on.
The people who surrounded me during my illness weren’t strangers to my life. They were relationships nurtured over years — people I had walked alongside through their own challenges, celebrations, and turning points.
Community is not transactional; it’s relational. And it grows when we invest in it long before we ever need it ourselves.
Questions for Leaders
If you’re reading this as a leader — whether you lead a company, a team, a family, or a community — I want to leave you with a few questions worth considering.
- Who in your life needs support right now?
- Who is walking through a difficult season that you could reach out to today?
- Who have you lost touch with that might benefit from hearing your voice?
- Where are you building authentic community instead of simply maintaining professional connections?
And perhaps most importantly:
If you faced a crisis tomorrow, who would be standing in your corner?
Action Steps: Strengthening Community
If this reflection resonates with you, here are a few simple ways to strengthen your own circle of support — and support others.
Reach out intentionally. Send a message to someone who may be struggling. Offer prayer or encouragement. Never underestimate the impact of letting someone know they are not alone.
Allow others to support you. Leadership does not mean carrying everything by yourself.
Beginning Again Together
One of the most humbling realizations of my journey last year is that healing rarely happens alone.
It happens through people.
Through prayer.
Through encouragement.
Through the quiet strength of others standing beside us when we are too weak to stand on our own.
When I look back on that hospital room, I see more than illness.
I see a reminder that we were never meant to do life alone. And sometimes, the greatest strength we can experience comes from the community that surrounds us.
That is the power of prayer. That is the power of community.
And it’s another way we learn how to begin again.