My name is Liz, and I am all things marketing for Red Mountain Grace. When I started with Red Mountain Grace on April 11, 2022, I knew the mission. I knew the gist of what we did. I knew the elevator pitch. I knew my “why” for being there - or I thought I did. What I didn't know was what we really did. The true impact of Red Mountain Grace. 

I want to share my why. Why I chose to work for Red Mountain Grace. Why I bought in. Why I "got it." Why you should "get it" too. 

In August of 2017, my 19-year-old brother-in-law, Alex, was diagnosed with Leukemia. He was about to start his sophomore year of college. I had been married to his brother for two years. This turned our world upside down. 

The year before Alex’s diagnosis, I had been diagnosed with a thyroid disease. I was struggling to adapt to my new symptoms. I was tired all the time and nothing about myself was how I had always known me to be. When we got the news that Alex had cancer, my husband spiraled. It was my turn for that fight or flight to kick in and take care of everything - my husband, our house, all the things. I had to keep going.

As a wife, it’s my job to support my husband. That season was hard for him. The anguish you feel for a suffering family member is REAL. It is physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually painful. It’s painful to watch your spouse experience something so terrible. And unfortunately during this time, life had to go on. We can’t stop showing up for work. We can’t stop functioning. There’s a mortgage, bills, and responsibilities that go on. It is truly an out-of-body experience to be a caregiver or a supporter of a caregiver during a hard, medical diagnosis. 

It’s also one thing to live life without serious troubles. It’s easy to pray and keep going when everything is great. It’s another thing to take life day by day, literally on your knees, crying out to God. Needing Him to move. Move so someone doesn’t die. Move so someone has an ounce of hope to keep going. 

It sounds selfish, but watching my brother-in-law, husband, and my in-laws walk through that was excruciating. There were weeks darker than others. I was overcome with true fear. Not fear like you experience when you are about to do something daring. True fear.

It was so hard some days to just stand. To just wake up. To go sit in my chair in front of my computer and make it until 5. Jumping at every phone ping. Dreading the drive home. Dreading walking through the door. Praying everyone made it just a little while longer. One more day.

It was the darkest time in my life, and I pray I never know days like that again. Thankfully, we were all surrounded by amazing extended family, friends, and church family. They were all a text away. They did our laundry. They brought us food. They mowed our yard. They held my hand. They wiped my tears. They let me lay on their couch for just a few minutes of an escape. They picked up the pieces I dropped and the loads I couldn't carry. They showed us compassion. They met us with grace.

My community. 

There were so many days, honestly weeks, that I didn't have the right words to pray. I couldn't find them. I couldn't see any hope. No strength to even say a brief prayer. But my community did. They prayed. They held me.   

As I write this, tears are streaming down my face. I will never be able to repay them. I now understand even more the luxury I had of having "my people" here. Not just to do things for us, but to be there. Just be there. 

Our Red Mountain Grace families come to us without this luxury. They are far from home. Many have never been to a big city. They don't have their family, friends, or church around the corner. But they have us.  

They have apartment adopters paying the rent for the apartment which is their quiet retreat from the hospital.

They have a Neighborhood of monthly donors taking care of the utilities and furnishing an apartment where they can cook meals. 

They have a staff of individuals checking in on them and encouraging them.

They have volunteers who clean and prep their apartment, wash their linens, bring them a meal, loan them a stock pot or dumbells, and offer them friendship.

They have a community of strangers standing in the gap for them. Praying for them. Encouraging them. Being there for them. Lifting a housing burden that allows them to focus on getting better and taking care of their loved ones. 

We are their community. The community I had. The community my in-laws had. The community your friend has as she fights breast cancer. The community your co-worker has while his newborn is fighting in the NICU. The community your neighbor has while her son is slowly slipping away in the ICU. Without Red Mountain Grace, these families wouldn't have that immediate community lifting them up while they are in Birmingham.  This is our mission - gracious hospitality.

One of the main things I love and appreciate about Red Mountain Grace - we take care of everyone. 

We take care of the caregivers. It’s exhausting to be a caregiver. You don't have to be the patient to stay in our apartments. The husband of the woman waiting for a lung transplant, the mother of the child receiving radiation, the niece of the widow experiencing a traumatic brain injury - we are here for all of them. 

We remember the family. The sibling celebrating her birthday states away, far from her friends - our YP board bought her a bicycle. The husband and wife celebrating their anniversary in the hospital - our volunteers brought them a cake. 

And their apartment - it's theirs. They can have snacks. Meals. Toys. Computer monitors to keep working. Privacy to pump for their baby in the NICU. Their children can stay with them. It's their home away from home. Not all hospitality houses offer these "luxuries." I sat with a family a few months ago who stayed at another hospitality house before we had an opening. Their daughter was receiving proton therapy. Most days she was nauseous. At that other hospitality house, she wasn't allowed to have water in her bedroom. Imagine going through cancer treatment and not being able to have a sip of water in the middle of the night. 

We provide them with space that's their own. Space to live in. To feel what they need to feel. To be vulnerable. Do what they need to do. Filled with the comforts of home they so desperately miss and need. We help them preserve their dignity. Meet them with compassion. Show them grace. True grace.

I always joke that my job boils down to fonts and colors. I am not out there saving lives. But through Red Mountain Grace, what I do trickles up the pipeline and supports those who are supporting our guests. The families in the midst of a dark season I know all too well. Families far from their community. Far from the people who hold them up and carry their burdens. 

When Alex was sick, we met a lot of these families in the hospital. You're bonded by your trauma, but I never really realized what so many of them were probably lacking and needed. Were they sleeping in their cars? When was the last time they had a hot meal that didn't come from the overpriced sandwich shop downstairs? When was the last time they were able to shower? These are very real scenarios we see written on applications…weekly.

I need more people to know about Red Mountain Grace. To buy into our mission of providing gracious hospitality to these families who live outside of Birmingham.

Sidenote: The New Testament word for “hospitality” (Greek: φῐλοξενῐ́ᾱ / filoxenía) comes from a compound of “love” and “stranger.” Hospitality has its origin, literally, in love for outsiders.

There are a lot of families who need help. Last year, we served nearly 150 families. We were unable to serve 196 families who submitted applications. We have 20 apartments, always working toward 100% occupancy, but it’s not enough. So many people need what Red Mountain Grace offers.

My job of fonts and colors is challenging. It's challenging because no one in Birmingham will ever need us. And if they won't need us or their loved one won't need us, then they will probably never know who we are. I need them to know. I need them to buy in. I need them to grasp what gracious hospitality is. Why Red Mountain Grace is the best option in Birmingham for families who need medical housing.

We are really amazing. We offer things you can't get at any other hospitality house in Birmingham - Community. Love. Grace.

I'm bought in. I know that we are the best option for families coming to Birmingham for long-term medical care. You probably won't know our families. They are strangers. Our needs as a nonprofit are unique just like our mission. I can't always give you the space for an Instagram-worthy taco night to boast of your good deeds, but I can show you real needs that need to be met. We need you to meet them.

We need more young professionals to help us fundraise.

We need stay-at-home moms and retirees to clean apartments during the day in between guest stays. 

We need working folks to wash linens over the weekends.

We need small groups to assemble freezer meals. 

We need your office to celebrate milestones with our guests.

We need GCs and property managers to help us navigate our unique model.

We need community partners to provide our guests with essentials like mattresses, toilet paper, and so much more. 

We need more people to give monthly so that we continue opening our doors to families (our ED would probably cringe at this statement, but we do need more monthly donors).

We need you. 

We need more people to serve and love these strangers. To be their community. A community that is so very important.

When I think about the days when I was in the position of the families we serve, it still stirs so much sadness and anxiety inside of me. Years later, I'm still finding rubble to clean up. Ashes to wipe. Broken pillars to repair. Walls to rebuild and restore. God and my community were the only hope I had most days, and they continue to help me through the healing process. I know for certain, I don’t want to imagine those days without Him and my people, and I need them still. Just this summer, I had a panic attack over a swollen lymph node (a swollen lymph node was how doctors discovered Alex’s cancer). My community helped me through that anxiety I didn’t know was hidden inside of me.

The families we serve need the same encouragement and hope that I was given. 

During the thick of our Alex’s battle, I would write scriptures everywhere. If I had no prayers to muster, I could at least read, reminding myself of God’s promises, and letting God know I was doing my best to hold on to His promises. One of those was Psalm 40:1-3:

“I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along. He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see what he has done and be amazed. They will put their trust in the Lord.”

On the hard days, I remember that promise. I have a new outlook on life and a new mission - to support families like mine, but those who are not as fortunate to have world-class healthcare in their backyards. (My in-laws could get Alex from their front door to the door of the Children’s or UAB ER in 17 minutes. What a gift.)

If you’re wondering about Alex, he has been cancer-free for around 5 years and is almost done with his teaching degree. Our family was very fortunate to see him overcome cancer and a lung infection that was nearly fatal. I do not take for granted what the Lord brought us through. Not every RMG family leaves Birmingham with a happy ending like we had. As I type this, our hearts are with a guest who said goodbye to her father this weekend and with another family anticipating the worst, holding on to each breath their spouse/father/son has left. The unimaginable.

I've spent the last year and a half learning RMG. Visiting with families. Soaking in everything - the good, the bad, the victories, and the saddening days. Really realizing and grasping my "why" for being a part of Red Mountain Grace. I knew it was Alex and the journey I walked during his battle, but I discovered it is so much more.

It's the spouses, the parents, the siblings, the lonely family members, the caregiver who has been trying for days to get an appointment for a shower at the hospital, the wife sleeping in her car in the parking deck, the dad trying to keep his job while his daughter battles for her life. These are the families of RMG. These are the families who need your time, talents, and resources.

There are so many ways to get involved with Red Mountain Grace. They may not always be glamorous or look like a traditional serve day, but I know firsthand how incredibly helpful and impactful meeting those unique needs can be.

We need more people to be a part of this community. To help our families. I would love to share stories with you. Stories of families who were so overwhelmed and without hope, but Red Mountain Grace was there. Our community was there with gracious hospitality. I'll cry, you'll cry, and when we are done crying, I hope that you will take my hand and make a real difference in our community.

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(Brownie points for making it this far)

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