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Trusting the unseen: Ramadan and healing


Back in my chemo chair for my fifth Zometa infusion… and this time, it falls in Ramadan.
There’s something about Ramadan that feels collective. Even if you’re not Muslim, you can probably relate to having certain seasons in the year that feel different; more intentional, more reflective, more connected. For us, Ramadan is that month. Yes, we fast from dawn to sunset. But it’s also about slowing down... about discipline when it’s hard, patience when you’re tired, and remembering what really matters.
And today, my Ramadan looked different.
Instead of fasting, I was hooked up to an IV. Instead of preparing for iftar, I was listening to the steady beep of machines and watching medication drip into my veins.
I won’t pretend that it didn’t sting a little. There’s something tender about knowing your family is moving through the day in a shared rhythm, breaking fast together and you’re sitting it out.
But faith isn’t one-size-fits-all.
In Islam, when you’re unwell, you’re not just allowed to pause your fast, you’re encouraged to take care of your body. Still, even when you know that, it doesn’t automatically quiet the feeling of “missing out.”
Somewhere between the antiseptic smell of the hospital room and the quiet drip of the IV, something shifted for me.
Ramadan and cancer treatment actually speak the same language.
  • Both ask you to trust what you can’t see.
  • Both ask you to hold onto hope while the work you can’t see yet begins to take shape.
  • Both ask you to believe that today’s discomfort carries tomorrow’s growth.
Ramadan teaches us that what we give up today can transform us tomorrow. Treatment asks for that same surrender, trusting that what’s entering my body now is doing its work, even if I can’t feel it yet.
So maybe I wasn’t fasting today. But I was still practicing patience. Still practicing surrender. Still making intentions.
My worship just looked like showing up to my appointment. Whispering prayers in an infusion chair. Trusting that God is just as present in hospital rooms as He is at the iftar table.
If you’ve ever had a season where life didn’t look the way it “should,” you’ll understand that sometimes faith is less about performing the ritual perfectly and more about showing up honestly.

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