Sunny

This past week my sweet friend, January Sun Kim, passed away in her bed, ending a fierce two and a half year battle with cancer.

I can't believe that she's gone. It just doesn't feel real. Shock, sadness, anger, disbelief. And peace over it all. Peace that I don't understand. We saw her fight and fight and hope every step of the way. We prayed every day for a miracle. And I don't think I'll ever understand why she wasn't healed. Or why the awfulness of cancer is a part of reality.

Hope.

Hope was always her battle cry. And I feel like it is still, on the other side of death. She is a warrior of hope, cheering for us to claim hope today.

I met January exactly four years ago. Her friendship these past four years has been so precious. My honorary little sister.

January's life changed people.

Friend, Truth-speaker, Artist, Adventurer, Fighter.

This girl has left a legacy.

January was a great friend. The kind of friend that is so thoughtful that it surprises you. She gave people the most thoughtful, personal, detailed, tiny notes and drawings. These gifts have become treasures. She listened and encouraged and said the hard things. She would show up for a visit, usually when you least expected, in your bed or at the airport or jumping from a corner of your house. She was the master of surprise. She gave her time freely. She laughed a lot. She loved fully and actively.

She heard God's voice in such a special way. And she chose to share this with the people around her. January talked about God like he was her friend. They just talked. One time when we were on the World Race together, I was having a really tough day. Like, totally discouraged, done kind of day. We were in the ocean and I was swimming on my own, trying to keep it together. January paddled up to me casually, put her little hand on my shoulder and said, "God just told me to tell you that he sees you, you're awesome and to not give up." And then she swam away. Simple. Honest. Direct truth. Her words were few and so powerful.

She was an incredible artist. Not just the, "oh, that's good," because you want to be nice, kind of good. Really, really crazy talented. Again, she didn't keep this gift to herself. She used her talent and shared it with the people around her. She was creative in everything that she did, seeing beauty in the smallest, most ordinary things. She loved and appreciated things big and small. And she was able to creatively capture so many of those things through her art.

January loved saying yes to adventure. Always up for trying something new. I love her adventurous spirit. Whether it be to take a destination-less drive, or ride a random mechanical bull in a mall, or go mushroom picking in the forest, or trying a strange thing on the menu, or staying up late talking about her bucket list and all the places she would visit, she was always ready for an adventure.

She was really good at dancing. She hated ladybugs. She was always the last one standing when we did workout videos. She taught us how to arm-knit. She liked to eat cheese like a little mouse. She could rock huge fuzzy hats, Katniss winter vests and really anything she wanted to wear. She knew how to rest well when needed. She was a great leader, trusting, challenging and empowering the people around her. She was honest. She loved all things tiny.

Words are really too small to capture who January was and the legacy of hope that she leaves behind. I don't know why she didn't get the miracle that we all prayed for. But we know that she was our miracle.

She is teaching us to hope no matter what. To trust even when we don't understand. To live and love fully. To share our gifts, to pursue adventure, to embrace and cherish the people in our lives.

I love you, Sunny, and I am thankful to call you my friend, always.