The Plot Twist No One Expected

Hello, friends. It’s been a while since I last posted. A lot has happened since February. Life has thrown a mix of challenges and blessings my way, and to be honest, I’m still sorting through some of it. Sometimes our stories shift without warning—like a plot twist that leaves you blinking at the page, trying to make sense of what just happened. The past few months have been a season filled with growth, grief, grace, and grit. Now, I’m finally ready to put words to it and share with you what’s been going on.

In March, I had an abnormal mammogram. That led to an ultrasound. That led to a biopsy. The doctor was kind and let me know at the time of the biopsy that, based on the scans, she anticipated a cancer diagnosis—but she reassured me that it was a very small mass, caught early, and she felt the prognosis would be good. That gave me a little space to prepare my mind and heart for what came next: a confirmed diagnosis of breast cancer.

I was referred to a surgeon who, apparently, is a local legend. Seriously—every nurse, technician, and hospital staff member I met lit up when I mentioned his name. In mid-April, he removed the cancer, the surrounding pre-cancerous cells, and a few lymph nodes. I’ll skip the medical terms (you’re welcome), but the short version is this: it was Stage 1, slow-growing, hadn’t spread to the lymph nodes, and I didn’t need chemotherapy. My care team recommended radiation and medication as an alternative path with the same effectiveness.

So, May was for surgery recovery. June brought radiation treatments—every ding-dang day—okay, technically just weekdays—but every morning was just déjà vu all over again. And on July 15^th, I’ll ring the bell at my last radiation appointment.

Physically, I’ve felt pretty well—minus some molasses-wading fatigue and brain fog (though honestly, that last part is nothing new). But one thing I learned during this time is that stress and concentration are not friends. That said, even at 60% brain capacity, progress was made!

In early April, I received Whispers of Kith and Kin back from my editor, who offered thoughtful, insightful feedback—the kind that makes you go, “Oh. Right. That is better.” I’ve been working slowly through those edits, and I’m hopeful that once radiation wraps, I’ll hit a more productive rhythm.

I’ve also been working on Whispers of the Blessed, the next book in the Whispers series. As you may recall, Lily’s cover has been blown, and in Whispers of the Blessed she finds herself in a tiny West Virginia town—with a new identity, new challenges, and, of course, another mystery. I’m aiming for a late 2026 release. Stay tuned for more about that in future posts.

So, what’s next:

1. Finish the edits for Whispers of Kith and Kin
2. Set up my author page and website
3. Figure out how to create a newsletter mailing list
4. Send the manuscript for final proofreading and formatting
5. Set up my Amazon KDP account and upload the final manuscript
6. Send advance reader copies to my Launch Team
7. Hopefully take the book live on Amazon by October 15, 2025—only a month later than originally planned

It might look like a lot when it’s all laid out like that. But I’m tackling it the same way I tackled writing the book—just one step at a time.

Before Whispers of Kith and Kin even had a title, before Lily ever stepped into that small Mississippi town thick with bitterness and secrets, I didn’t know exactly how the story would end. Honestly, there were moments I had no idea what would happen next—I changed the murderer three times before settling on the one who made it to the final page. I just kept showing up, scene by scene, asking myself, Okay, what happens next?

And line by line, God gave me what I needed—not all at once, but just enough for the next sentence, the next page, the next step. That slow, steady rhythm of His provision wasn’t new to me; it had been a gentle, enduring constant throughout my life—like the Israelites in the wilderness, gathering manna that appeared fresh each morning—just enough for the day. Each day’s supply was a quiet miracle. If they didn’t trust God and gathered too much, it spoiled. But when they trusted, He was faithful to provide exactly what they needed, exactly when they needed it.

So later, when my diagnosis came and the narrative of my life turned sharply like a chapter I hadn’t meant to write, that same slow, steady rhythm of His faithful provision was already familiar. The ordinary pace of my life shifted, replaced by doctor visits, hard truths, and uncertainty. Yet the same strength and patience I needed to finish the story page by page was the same resilience God gave me to face every scan, every treatment, every foggy morning. As in every moment of my life, God’s presence, lovingkindness, and mercy have been the solid foundation beneath it all. He is constantly surprising me with just how much beauty can live inside the mess of life.

In all honesty, there are days when fear threatens to overcome faith, and frustration rises because simple tasks—like laundry, putting dishes away, or making the bed—leave me exhausted and wondering how something so normal got so hard. On those days, I remember the manna God sent the Israelites each morning. I remember how I didn’t know how Whispers of Kith and Kin would end, but God did. I remember that just as He guided me word by word, line by line, through to the end of the story, He will continue to sustain me, strengthen me, and supply all I need—just enough for the day—each day’s supply a quiet miracle. Just like He always has.