February 17, 2019 KimHarms

Mastectomy Pillows I will not be able to respond to pillow requests from February 18 – February 22, because I will be sitting on a beach in Mexico reading lots of books, hanging out with my favorite guy and eating food cooked by someone else. 20th Anniversary trip, here we come!

January 29, 2019 KimHarms

Body image is one thing I’ve wrestled with since breast cancer. I had the opportunity to speak to a group of women at the Inspire 2019 Conference in Des Moines last weekend about my struggles and things I’ve learned. Here’s a short little clip from my talk. (I’m so proud of the fact that I figured out how to edit out the part where I blew my nose :)) My Broken Body:a Biblical View of Body Image When Your Body Fails You

January 22, 2019 KimHarms 8Comment

He sat on the couch and listened to How He Loves over and over. We had just learned his mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, and this was my hubby’s way of dealing with the news. Worship. Music is how he connects with his creator. Not long after that Corey began singing and playing How He Loves in church, leading the congregation in worship.  I love to listen to Corey sing pretty much anything, but if I was told to choose one last song to hear him sing, it would be that one. Because I know what it means to…

January 19, 2019 KimHarms 1Comment

We don’t know where we’re going, but darn it, we are taking a romantic beachy trip in February. (I realize February is only 12 days away, and most big trips like this are planned far in advance. We’re kind of flying by the seat of our pants 🙂 ) It was daydreaming about this upcoming trip and thinking about previous trip that didn’t happen that led to my post at Inspire a Fire this month. Below you’ll find the start. Follow the link at the end to find the rest of the story. God is Present in the Cold Seasons…

January 8, 2019 KimHarms 6Comment

Not enough cancer. It sounds ridiculous. Or maybe it doesn’t. But there is a little voice in my head I have to fight periodically that tells me “You didn’t have enough cancer to do what you’re doing. You were stage I. You didn’t even have chemo. Stop this thing and move on.” I am forever grateful that a couple surgeries, a few months of a crazy reconstruction process, and a little white pill every morning for 10 years are the extent of my treatment (as long as it doesn’t come back, which it likely won’t, so there’s no point worrying…