At one point over the summer, I found myself on a breast cancer forum on Reddit. It started as I looked for answers as to whether a side effect was common and what solutions others had found for it, but we all know how those can rabbit-trail, right? I ended up reading some threads that had me laughing, some that me blinking back tears, some that had me nodding along, and few that left me scratching my head.

One that has stuck with me was a rant–an understandable one, in one respect. The poster was saying how she hated to hear “you inspire me,” or “you’re such a warrior.” Her take, and the take of most of the people who commented in reply, was that she didn’t want to inspire anyone. This wasn’t a battle she’d chosen. She wasn’t a warrior, she was just a conscript in a battle that scientists and doctors were fighting, and she didn’t want to be there, so don’t call her a hero. I similarly heard from a few individuals along the way that they, too, hadn’t liked it when people said they were inspiring in a battle not of their own choosing.

I get that, in a way. But also…I don’t. Because here’s the thing.

We never get to pick which battles we’re tossed into in this world, not really. Much as “pick your battles” is an adage, it’s one with limited scope, right? Because it’s all about choosing not to make a battle of something when it’s all but useless. When it comes to health struggles, chronic illness, disease, behavioral health problems…no one chooses these battles. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have to fight them.

And most of all, it doesn’t mean we don’t get to choose HOW we fight them.

I know, I know, I’ve already talked quite a bit over the summer about choosing to approach our limitations with an attitude worthy of Christ, so I don’t want to just repeat myself. But at the same time, it bears repeating and dwelling on. And it bears it, in a way, because of its simplicity.

I’m still getting so many messages saying how inspiring my attitude is, and how it has proven an encouragement for other people going through their own struggles. And I hear, in the back of my mind, those people in the forums saying they don’t want to be that inspiration. And it makes me…sorrowful. Because why? Why wouldn’t you want to lend others strength simply by being there? Why wouldn’t you want to prove to them, by putting one foot in front of the other, that they can keep putting one foot in front of the other? What I love about that is that it doesn’t require giving up any of the measly strength I have to help someone else–it doesn’t weigh on me or hurt me at all. All that’s required is that we stand here, wherever God has put us, and say, “He’s got me. And because you can see He’s got me, you can know He’s got you too.”

I’ll be honest–optimism comes easily to me. It doesn’t, generally speaking, require effort. When my husband says, “I’m so proud of how you’re making the best of this,” the only possible response is, “What else am I supposed to do, make the worst of it? What would be the point of that?” But as my doctor pointed out, “You’d be surprised.” So often, we choose to dwell on the negatives instead of the positives. So often, we get worn down. So often, even what people intend as encouragement just grates on us, a reminder of what we’re going through and don’t want to be. Sometimes, it feels never-ending, and sometimes there really is no end in sight.

I get that in those times, the last thing we want to think about is the idea that God put us in this so that someone else could be inspired. That seems pretty awful, right? Why should we have to suffer just so someone else can see us and say, “Hey, I can get through it too”? But I would say that that isn’t the reason we suffer. But it can–and I daresay should–be a consequence of our suffering. It isn’t the reason, but it can be part of the meaning we take from it.

There are going to be days in all our lives when we don’t feel like smiling. When we’re miserable. When we just want it to stop. There are days when we struggle to remain positive, when tears come, and frustration and hurt and depression. It’s okay that we have those days. And when we’re in them, seeing someone else going through something with a smile might actually do us more harm than good, emotionally speaking. But when those days come, instead of thinking “I don’t want to inspire anyone in this battle,” I personally have found it to be a great help to just pause and think, “How is this inspiring?”

Seriously. On some of my worst days, when someone has commented or messaged to say how inspiring I’ve been, I have to ask how and why. I don’t feel inspiring. I don’t feel like I’m doing anything big or great. I’m not trying to project anything in particular or live up to anything for the sake of others. Those days, I am literally just plodding along, drained of energy and want-to. And then someone will say something like that, and I think of those people on the Reddit forum who would clench their teeth and bite back a sarcastic retort. And again I’m filled with that sorrow.

Because you know what I hear when someone says that? I hear, “God is capable of using my mess in ways I can’t imagine.” When I see someone blinking tears from their eyes for me, I see God binding His Church together in ways I could never do on my own. When someone reaches out to say they know they can keep fighting because I keep fighting, I marvel at how He is so strong, so capable of holding us in His hand, when we are at our weakest.

In my head, “positive” is just the default. I’m usually surprised when someone chooses a different perspective, LOL. I don’t think about it being anything unique, not until one of my doctors says something like, “And you’re still smiling and laughing. You don’t know what a difference that makes.”

I’m learning, though. I’m learning what a difference it makes–not just for me, but for everyone else. Because no, I didn’t choose this war or this battle, maybe I was drafted into it like everyone else. But that doesn’t mean it’s not my part to fight it valiantly and worthily. No, I didn’t choose this so I could inspire anybody–but that doesn’t mean God can’t and won’t use it to do just that. No, I don’t want to be going through this–but I am, and so I will walk through each day as a child of Light, not of darkness. And I will reflect that Light in whatever way I can. Through a smile, through a joke, through vulnerability.

Maybe none of us get to choose the fight…but we get to choose what we’re fighting for. And when we look beyond ourselves, when we embrace the inspiration we can be for others, just as we look to the inspirations those who came before us provided, it can change everything. We don’t need to set out to “be inspiring.” We simply have to open ourselves up to God and say, “Do with me, with this, whatever You will.” He’ll take care of the rest.