Kim Holman's Journey

There is something about rhythms—they are often steady, grounding, and reassuring. This week, my bloodwork once again showed that I continue to be stable. I’m deeply grateful. In my last blog, I didn’t share one important update: my Kisqali dosage was reduced by one-third. While I had hoped for that change, I fully expected my oncologist to ask me to wait another year. It was both exciting and a little scary at the same time. My next scans won’t take place until August, but I continue to trust—and believe—that they will confirm what we are seeing now: stability.

More than anything, this season has drawn me closer to God. My faith has become the steady rhythm beneath everything else. This cancer journey has shaped me in ways I never anticipated—deepening my dependence on Him and opening my heart in new ways. I’m learning that growth often comes not just through healing, but through surrender.

Those of you who know me well know that I have always kept a full schedule. These days, I’m intentionally creating margin. In a recent sermon, I heard something that struck me deeply: God can’t add beautiful things to our hearts if there’s no room in our lives. That truth has stayed with me.

Every six months, I set personal goals. In the first six months, my focus was simple: get my numbers down, adjust to the medication, and learn a new way of eating. Check. In the second six months, I turned toward my emotional and spiritual health. I knew that work would take longer, but the growth and transformation God has guided me through have been incredible.

One of the most significant factors in cancer is stress, and I had no idea how much I had been carrying for so many years. As I continue to release past burdens, my life feels deeper, freer, and more anchored in faith. In this current season, I’m focusing on improving my HRV (heart rate variability) and increasing my skeletal muscle mass. Since beginning counseling last September, one app shows that my daily stress levels have steadily improved. In January, my HRV was very low—a clear sign of stress I hadn’t been managing. But through counseling and daily practices like yoga and walking, I’m seeing steady progress.

I’m also working on building strength. Skeletal muscle mass is especially important since my bones have been impacted by metastases. Strengthening these muscles is critical for my long-term health. I never imagined myself as someone who would go to a gym to lift weights—but here I am. And alongside that, I’m learning to slow the pace of my life and embrace a different rhythm.

Family continues to be one of God’s greatest blessings in my life. In March, I spent a week in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, with my children and their families. Board games, playing pool, and hikes filled my heart in ways I can’t fully describe. Then, at the end of April, Glen and I were blessed with two weeks in Greece. We enjoyed the stunning blue waters of the Mediterranean, the unexpected beauty of the mountains, and incredible food—including a cooking class we loved. Patmos was especially meaningful. I joked that if I ever needed to be exiled somewhere, I could handle Patmos!

A recent devotional from Nicky Gumbel reminded me that mountaintops inspire us, but valleys mature us. Experiences like Meteora—with its monasteries high above the earth—give perspective. They help me see the valleys of life differently. I’m so thankful for the people who have walked alongside me on this journey, reminding me to keep my eyes lifted and my life grounded in what matters most.