Tomorrow, my sister would have been 35 years old.

Sami was 31 when she sat down and wrote her own blog, Tomorrow I am 32 with a whole new perspective. Bravely and beautifully sharing the news that she had been diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. With her faith, humor, and strength, she poured her heart onto the page like she did each time, determined to bring hope even in the darkest valley.

One year later, on what would have been her 33rd birthday, I signed off on this blog. By then, Sami was already celebrating in heaven, just 8 months after her diagnosis. Only 8 months. It still feels impossible.

Here I am again, two years later, writing once more. Not because the pain is gone… it isn’t. Not because I’ve figured out how to live without her… I haven't. But because I promised her that I’d keep advocating. Because I promised to keep her memory alive. Because grief and faith can coexist, and I want to keep sharing my heart openly, just like she did.

Tomorrow, Sami would have been 35 years old, but instead of planning a celebration here on earth, I find myself picturing her in heaven. She is singing her favorite worship songs, dancing in the presence of Jesus, and celebrating her third birthday in glory. It's a bittersweet image… one that both comforts and breaks me.

I miss my sister with every ounce of who I am. If you knew us you know, she wasn’t just my sister. She was my best friend, my role model, my constant. There wasn’t a single day that passed without us talking. We texted all day long, FaceTimed regularly (especially for our sweet Clara), and then every day after work, I’d call her on my drive home to bother her some more. We’d catch up on anything we hadn’t already texted about, because that’s just who we were.

Our bond was one of those unexplainable sibling connections that you know was written by God Himself. I will forever be thankful for it. I carry it with me every day… through the tears, through the laughter, through the moments that catch me off guard when I just want to call her and forget for a second that I can’t.

Yes, my heart still breaks. Yes, the grief still finds me, sometimes quietly and sometimes all at once. But I know… that's me feeling the loss. That’s me missing my person. And while that’s human and real and okay, I also recognize it for what it is… a temporary ache. Because my sister believed in something greater. She believed in the promise of Heaven. She believed in a Savior who moves mountains, and so do I.

So who am I to question the plan God had for her? Who am I to sit in the “why” when I know she was ultimately healed the moment she stepped into eternity? God didn’t abandon us, He fulfilled His promise. He took her home.

And in that truth, I find peace.

Even in my brokenness, I surrender. I lay my heart, my grief, my questions at the foot of the cross, and I let Jesus carry the weight when it gets too heavy. Because without Him, I couldn’t do this. But with Him, I can find joy even in sorrow. I can smile through the tears, and I can celebrate the life my sister lived even when it was shorter than I would have chosen, a life that touched so many.

I am blessed to have had her. I am blessed to share her story. And I am honored to keep her name alive, not only for our family, but for everyone who knew and loved her.

In true Sami fashion, I leave you with a challenge. Do something this week that makes you better. Let go of some anger that you have been holding in, go for a walk and enjoy the outdoors, tell someone you love them. Maybe you’ve never walked with Jesus. Maybe you’re unsure what you believe. Maybe your questions feel too small, too big, or too overwhelming to ask. Maybe the thought of giving your time feels like too much. But today, I want to challenge you. Step outside your comfort zone. Seek after something greater than anything you or I could ever imagine. Choose to love Jesus the way Sami did, because in Him, you’ll find a peace more real than you ever thought possible. And if you don’t have a Bible, I’d love to send you one. No conversation necessary, just send me a message with your address.

Tomorrow our early bird pricing ends, so what better birthday present to Sami than to get those Sami Strong 5K registrations in so we can continue to help Stage IV breast cancer patients, families, children who lost a parent to the disease and  to continue to spread the gospel in Sami’s honor. 

Register here: https://runsignup.com/Race/FL/PortCharlotte/SamiStrong5KGlowRun

Sami Faith Foundation: https://www.samifaithfoundation.com/

Happy Heavenly Birthday, my sweet sister. I miss you more than words could ever say, but I’ll keep loving, living, and praising… just like you taught me.

I can’t wait to hug you at the gates.

XOXO,

Mandi