When God Trusts You With The Battle

Cancer stories are rarely linear. They don’t begin and end in tidy chapters. They come in waves.

Sometimes subtle, sometimes devastating, shifting the lives they touch and testing every part of a person’s spirit. And when those stories stretch over years, when the fight becomes not a moment but a lifestyle, it’s easy to grow numb to the toll it takes… unless you’ve seen it up close.

I have.

And not in headlines or statistics, but in the eyes and the quiet strength of my boss, Tina. For nearly 15 years, she has walked through the unthinkable with an unshakable grace. I've seen the chemo fog, the scans, the appointments, and the exhaustion. But I’ve also seen her faith rise up like a wildfire in the middle of it…

all steady, brilliant, and stubbornly alive.

This isn’t just a story of survival. It’s a story of obedience. Of fierce love. Of choosing hope even when hope hurts. Of trusting that God is still God, even when the valley feels never-ending.

And it starts with a woman who reflects the light of Christ not just in her words but in the way she lives every single day.

The Weight She Carries

Fifteen years is a long time to fight anything. But cancer? That’s not just a fight. It’s a war that drags you through every season of life without ever calling a truce.

Tina’s been in this battle since May 7, 2010, when she was first diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma. She didn’t wait long to face it head-on. Just a few weeks later, on May 26, she had a double mastectomy. And by July 7, she began chemo. What followed was a 4.5-year stretch of remission where she was hopeful, cautious, never fully relaxed, but full of faith nonetheless.

Then, in June 2014, just before she was about to shift from 6 month visits to annual checkups, the cancer came back. This time in her liver. On November 7, she had a tumor removed, and the pathology confirmed it was the same cancer. It had metastasized.

Here’s the remarkable thing: of all the organs in the body, the liver is the only one that can regenerate. It’s the only place doctors can safely radiate again and again without destroying it entirely. It can withstand what others can’t. When the cancer came back, God showed up right alongside it. Not to stop it but to make a way through it.

It reminds me of Job, when God allowed Satan to test him. God said, "Behold, he is in your hand; only spare his life". Why? Because God knew Job. He knew his faith. He knew his endurance. And He trusted that Job would not break.

What if..? Just what if God sees Tina like that?

What if, in all His sovereign wisdom, He looked down and said:

“This one… she won’t turn. She won’t curse Me. She won’t grow bitter. She’ll keep choosing Me through the pain, through the poison, through the sleepless nights and hollowed-out mornings.”

What an awe-inspiring, soul-shaking idea to be so faithful, so deeply rooted in love and obedience, that God would allow you to face the wilderness the way Jesus did. To have the devil circle you like a vulture, whispering every lie, every doubt, every exit ramp from grace and to know HE knew you would still not waver.

To be the kind of soul that can withstand divine trust.

That’s what I see in Tina.

She lives like someone who’s already walked through the wilderness and come out the other side still praising. She doesn’t need a spotlight to prove her faith. It’s in the way she quietly chooses love when she could choose anger. It’s in the way she endures the unthinkable without letting it define her. It’s in the way she lets the devil bark but never bite.

She walks like someone whose suffering has been weighed and measured as though not as punishment, but as a testament. And every time she gets knocked down and still lifts her eyes to heaven, I believe the enemy shudders.

Because she didn’t break.

And I believe God smiles.

Faith Over Fear

Tina’s faith isn’t performative. She doesn’t preach from a pedestal. She lives it. Quietly. Fiercely. Consistently.

She pours herself into the company her father-in-law built and she and her husband Colton have the privilege to take to the next level. Not just as names on the paperwork, but as a hands-on leader who knows the ins and outs of every decision and detail. She listens. She teaches. She challenges. She never talks down, but she will push you to think deeper and to grow.

She’ll explain a process a dozen times if that’s what it takes. She doesn’t just want you to succeed; she wants you to understand why it matters.

Even on the hardest weeks, when the medicine fogs her memory or exhausts her body, she doesn’t complain. She just keeps showing up. She refuses to leave the office until someone gently bullies her into it. And even then, she probably answers a few more emails before heading home.

And maybe what amazes me most is that her obedience to God doesn’t waver. It doesn’t depend on how she’s feeling that day or what the doctors said. It’s rooted. Deep.

She’s never once pointed to her own strength. She always points to Him.

A Marriage That Mirrors Mercy

Tina and Colton are more than business owners or employers. They’re a testimony. A reflection of the grace and mercy of God made tangible in a world that desperately needs more of both.

They’ve been together since 1994, married since 1997. Through babies and businesses, through diagnoses and setbacks, they’ve built a life that reflects the love of Christ. And they’ve done it quietly, without needing applause.

You won’t hear them boasting. They don’t do it for recognition. In fact, if I wrote out everything they’ve done for people, they’d probably be embarrassed. But I know this much: their reward isn’t on Earth. It’s being stored up in heaven, right where it belongs.

The Witness She Is

I’ve seen Tina live out a level of obedience I’ve only begun to understand. Watching her faithfulness, her discipline, and her joy, even in suffering, has forced me to confront how shallow my own complaints are.

I gripe when the coffee’s wrong or the traffic’s slow. Tina walks out of a bathroom after vomiting from chemo and goes right back to helping someone else.

She doesn’t demand comfort. She doesn’t ask for special treatment. And she doesn’t let cancer become her identity.

She just keeps choosing God.

Over and over.

And the rest of us? We’re better for it.

She’s not perfect. She’ll be the first to tell you that. But if you ever wanted to see what it looks like to run the race with endurance, look at Tina.

She’s doing it. Every single day.

And somehow, she still smiles.

Blessed Is She Who Endures

“Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.”
— James 1:12 (NIV)

Tina is walking proof of this verse. Her crown isn’t flashy, and it’s not made of gold. It’s forged in tears, in prayers whispered in quiet hallways, in every act of love that doesn’t make the headlines. It’s the quiet glory of a life surrendered to Christ so fully, so wholly, no matter the cost.

And in that surrender, she shines.

-Candice, Friend, Bulldozer, Overproducer