Faith in real life.
Even in the hard parts.
Stories, encouragement, and hope for anyone walking through cancer,
illness, or a season that was not in the plan.
If you've ever sat in a waiting room and tried to hold yourself together, or watched someone you love disappear into a diagnosis and not known what to do
— This is for you.
Hope Lives Now exists because I've been in both seats.
I'm a writer, a grandmother, a cancer survivor, and someone who has learned that faith is most alive not when life is easy, but when it's the only thing holding you up.
You don't have to have it together here. You just have to show up.
Stories from the Middle
Weekly writing about faith, cancer, hard seasons, and the grace that shows up when you least expect it.
Give some Hope
Scripture Cards, Prayer Shawls, Blue Bags, Hope Baskets, and Blankets of Hope — tangible encouragement for someone walking through a hard season.
Coming Soon
Faces of Cancer and Cancer Took My Boobs Not My Jesus — real stories about the emotions nobody talks about.
Do you know someone going through cancer?
Download the free guide: How to Actually Help Someone With Cancer — what to say, what to bring, and what NOT to do.
Notes from the Middle
A weekly letter about faith in real life — the funny parts, the hard parts, and the grace that shows up when you're not expecting it.
Every Tuesday I write about faith, midlife, and the ordinary moments that turn out to matter most. Every Friday I write for the cancer and survivorship community — patients, caregivers, survivors, and everyone walking alongside them.
It's free. It goes straight to your inbox. And it's the best way to stay connected.
What Hope Looks Like
"I just finished opening the last few blue sack presents!! What a tactile demonstration of Christ's love..."— Ms. L
"I was stunned to receive the package — filled with love, warm wishes, and endless gifts..." — CS
"Each day he opens one I can see the encouragement in his face..." — B&W
Hi, I'm Kim.
In 2008, I was 40 years old when I heard the words "triple negative breast cancer." I had three kids, a grandchild on the way, and no family history. I had done everything right.
What got me through wasn't the perfect treatment plan. It was community. Encouragement. People who kept showing up even when they didn't know what to say. And a faith that turned out to be stronger than I knew.
I write about that. I make Blue Bags and Hope Baskets because of that. And I have two books coming that were born from that.
Hope isn't something we wait for someday. It lives now — right in the middle of the hard thing.