The Hardest Thing about This Book and Why I Love It

Obviously, the hardest thing about this book should be the cancer—how even after you’ve beaten it, you can lose. Lose your memory, your hopes, your dreams.

I won’t pretend that wasn’t hard, but the point of this book is that hope isn’t found in a lack of cancer diagnosis. It’s found in Jesus.

No, the hardest thing was watching the relationships between these sisters and seeing similarities in people you know and love—seeing how they create their own pain. Seeing that avoiding the pain causes a different kind of pain.

I love the book because the author, with brilliant use of words, welcomes you into the lives of characters. Even her point of view choices offer insights into character development and in the end, you’re left with wanting more.

And that’s a good thing because guess what?
This was book two. We are offered an invitation to walk through that cancer journey with Jillian in Things I Never Told You. It’s on my shelf. It’ll be hard to read. I’m walking through another cancer battle with another friend right now.

Actually, that’s a bit… overstated. She’s walking. I’m following behind, weeping, praising God for victories, begging Him for more time (she’s stage IV), ready to be a support if she needs me but instead, being supported by her amazingness.

This book didn’t just tell stories I related to in a brilliant and poignant way. It prepared my heart for more… for understanding more. And maybe, just perhaps… it helped prepare me for the next day when I come home from a memorial service after saying “see you soon” to a friend who has gone to be with Jesus.

Not an easy book to read, but it’s not hard, either. I don’t know how to classify it, but I recommend it for people who value friendships, who understand broken relationships, and who want to invest a bit more in their lives. I’m so glad I requested and received a review copy. Looking forward to book one. Sort of.