My ‘One Word’ this week is: HELP

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫.

Not the appointments. Not the fear. Not even the exhaustion.

It’s this moment: When people keep asking, “𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩?” And you don’t know how to answer.

When my wife was diagnosed with advanced breast cancer, I went into survival mode. Two young kids. A full-time job. A sick spouse. A house that still needed to run.

𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩. 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 “𝐰𝐞’𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬” 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧.

But one night, my wife looked at me and said something simple and brave:

“𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠, 𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫.”

That stopped me cold.

When I had cancer years earlier, we went through it together. But we didn’t have children then. We handled it on our own.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝.

What I didn’t realize at the time is that most people want to help.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰.

So I did something uncomfortable for me. I made it easy.

I went on a site called Lotsa Helping Hands and put out one request: meals.

That was it. What happened next still humbles me.

Every night, someone showed up. Food for our family. Food for our kids. Food when we were too tired to think.

It went on for months. Honestly, it felt like a restaurant. We even put a box outside our house so people could drop meals off without interrupting us.

Here’s what I learned in the middle of all that:

𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭.

Knowing my kids were fed lifted a weight I didn’t even realize I was carrying. It gave me space to be present. To care for my wife. To keep everything else from collapsing.

And something else surprised me too:

𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞.

When the meals finally stopped and my wife got better, my son, who was 13 at the time, said:

“𝐌𝐨𝐦, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫…𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝.”

We all laughed. And we all understood exactly what he meant.

So if you ever find yourself wondering how to help someone who’s sick, overwhelmed, or quietly drowning, send a meal.

No speech. No perfect words. Just food.

𝐈𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰.

And if you’re the one struggling? Let people show up.

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐚 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩.