The Poem I Carried

There are things we write that are meant to be shared right away — and then there are the ones we carry quietly, close to the chest, for a long time before we’re ready to let them go.

This poem was one of those.

It was written during a season of illness, in the space between fear and faith, when writing was the only way to make sense of what I was living through. It came from a place of deep love — the kind that would rather bear all the pain in the world than watch someone else carry it.

I think most of us know what that feels like. To love someone so much that their suffering would be harder to endure than your own.

If you’ve ever loved like that, these words are for you.

I'm So Glad It Was Me and Not You

Cancer is the hardest thing I've ever done, But I'm so glad that I'm the one.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

I would take all the pain in the world today, For you to never hurt this way. For you to never feel this fear, For you to never shed these tears.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

I'm so glad it was me who felt the needles in my skin, Who fought this battle from within. Who watched the bruises come and stay, Who counted scans day after day.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

I'm so glad it was me who felt my body shake and seize, Who begged and prayed on bended knees. Who woke up scared, not knowing why, Who wondered if today I'd die.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

I'm so glad it was me who would cry on the floor, Who didn't recognize myself anymore. Who grieved the girl I used to be, Who wondered who was left of me.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

I'm so glad it was me alone at night, Who heard machines and saw no light. Who stared at ceilings, cold and bare, Who wondered if the morning would be there.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

I'm so glad it was me who cried and cried, Whose heart was breaking from inside. Who lost so much and still had to stand, Who reached for God with trembling hands.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

I'm so glad it was me who went through hell, Who carries stories I can't tell. But even in the darkest night, You were my heaven, you were my light.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

Because I know that you are strong, But watching you would be too long. My heart could never bear the weight Of seeing you in that same state.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

The thought of you got me through the pain, Your love was shelter from the rain. Even when I couldn't stand, I felt you holding out your hand.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

And I would do it all again, Every needle, every amen. Every pain and every tear, Every night I shook with fear.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

I'd do it all a thousand times, I'd walk through fire, I'd climb these climbs. For it to be me and never you, There's nothing that I wouldn't do.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

You may not know how much beauty I see, When I look in your eyes, what you are to me. I see your heart, your love, your sweetest dreams, I see the life you want, the hope that gleams.

I'm so glad it was me and not you, So those dreams could still find you, So they could all come true.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

And at the end of every prayer I pray, At the close of every single day, I whisper soft, I whisper true: Thank you God, it was me and not you.

Because if it had been you, not me, I don't know how I'd breathe or be. I wouldn't just have lost my heart— My whole world would fall apart.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.

And every day of this life that passes, Through the grief and the hope and the waiting that amasses, I pray, I hope, I beg it's true: Let it always be me instead of you.

I'm so glad it was me and not you.