The Quiet Heroism of Showing Up
No one notices that I keep showing up to support and help.
One of the most harrowing moments of my life happened to somebody else.
I’d been invited to dinner to get to know a family better. Five minutes after we went outside, an ambulance was on the way. I fumbled for my role—herding kids, calling friends of the family who were more familiar, staying with the injured person, feeling mostly useless.
That night, I encountered a whole other side of church family that I had not experienced this intensely before. Other “members of the family” (other Christians, not actually related) showed up to care for the kids, to sit for hours in the ER waiting room, and to make sure a birthday party planned for the next day still happened. I knew that people signed up for meal trains and fixed faucets occasionally. I hadn’t grasped they could be so woven into each other’s lives that when crisis hit, it was second nature to drop everything.
I wanted to become one of those people. Someone who cared deeply and built long-term relationships that could withstand a crisis. But what I didn’t fully appreciate then was this: Crowds rally during crisis. It’s the few who stay long after who are rare.
A decade later, I was invited to a wedding for that same family. And guess who was there? The same support crew. Still woven into their lives. Still family.
Now, my family needs those same types of people. And we have them.
People have chosen to be part of our “long-term support crew.” Some of them are blood, some of them are not. They are still asking, “How are you really?” when others have moved on to accepting “fine.” They google “how to help a family with special needs” and join Facebook groups about the diagnosis, because they want to understand.
Are you one of these people? This costs more than you’ve said out loud, doesn’t it? The emotional whiplash of riding the rollercoaster with us. The subtle shifts in our relationship—you’re not just a friend anymore, but an advocate, a safe person, Barnabas. The invisibility of it all.
Or so you think.
But the thing is you are anything but invisible to us. In many ways, you are a lifeline.
You may consider your actions small: texting, cheering on a kid, hearing the same ache again. But we are experiencing:
- Proof we’re not forgotten. When you text on the hard days, we know someone still sees us.
- Evidence God hasn’t abandoned us. Your faithfulness reflects His.
- Permission to still struggle. You don’t need us to be “fine”—and that’s a gift.
- A safe place to keep processing. You listen without fixing, and that’s exactly what we need.
You are still here when others simply did not know how to stay. And it matters more than you know.
We will never be able express our gratitude sufficiently. So let me just say it plainly: Thank you. For the texts. For the questions. For not needing progress reports. For teaching our children what family means beyond sharing a last name. For asking about the appointment we dreaded. For celebrating the small wins that feel massive to us. For… just staying.
For many of you, that’s all you need to hear. You have full permission to close this tab, step away, and rest in knowing you’re making a profound difference. Thank you for reading this far.
But for others—the ones hungry to understand more deeply—here’s an invitation:
Consider reading Siege of the Soul. Maybe even give a copy to the family you are supporting.
Why? Because you have been walking alongside us, but there’s so much that is difficult to fully show you. The inner battles, fears, and siege that we don’t always feel safe acknowledging, let alone discussing. This book is a window into that world.
Choose to read it not so you can support us better, because you are already doing an amazing job. But so you can understand more of what you are observing. What is left unsaid. The weight behind, “It’s been a hard week.” The hope we’re trying to cling to.
If you read it, the texts you send may land with even more precision. The questions you ask might help unravel knots we didn’t know how to voice.You’ll see the fuller picture of the story you’ve chosen to be part of.
It’s purely up to you. But the feedback I’ve received suggests it would be a valuable investment of your time. (Pre-order the ebook here, or wait for the paperback or hardcover—all available February 24.)
Thank you, again, for caring so much and so well.
You’re not invisible. You’re essential. And we see you.
Are you the one being supported? Please consider sharing this post with your support crew, so that they can be reminded of how important they are and how much they are appreciated.
If you have chosen to support someone, would you consider sharing this post with another who is supporting or thinking about doing so? Thank you.

Conversations with you have certainly helped us understand to some extent on what is happening and how it is affecting your lives, but reading “Siege of the Soul”, helped us have a deeper understanding for sure!
We hope you always feel that you can share the very things we can’t fix (even though we wish we could). We can’t begin to comprehend the complexity of the situation!
We do want to help in anyway we can! We live so far away, that physical help is difficult, but we can listen, encourage, and pray for you and your entire family as you navigate through the trials ahead!
We love you guys and we are here…even from a distance!
Thank you for being you and sharing the real you and for trusting us enough to share. We have a deep desire to get better at it!
You guys surely are a huge part of our support crew, and we appreciate you immensely!
Thank you for journeying with us faithfully and diving into all that complexities it entails!