100 Books Like Chronic Illness

I was drawn to this meticulously written book in part because the author is a professor of pharmacy and my father is a retired pharmacist. I found myself thoroughly enjoying, underlining, and learning from the wealth of insight into living with chronic illness. The author offers excellent tips for navigating relationships, the medical field, and evaluating treatment options. 

While this book (like mine) is written for readers of all faiths, I appreciated and related to the testimony in the final chapter in which the author discusses the importance of his Christian faith and how it has helped him find meaning and purpose through suffering.   

As part of the Chronic Joy Thrive Series, President and Co-founder of Chronic Joy Ministry Cindee Snider Re offers a very useful book that consists of part devotional and part workbook. This is not a book to be simply read and passively absorbed; it is a book in which you will fill in the blanks on Bible verses, journal your thoughts, and answer reflection questions as they relate to your chronic illness and walk with Christ. Whether you use this alone or in a group setting, I found it comforting that Cindee walks alongside you, sharing experiences, scriptural insights, and pointing you to whom you can trust. No doubt this will strengthen your faith while dealing with the challenge of chronic illness.  

As noted in the final chapter of my own book, laughing is something I need to do more. Chronic illness is debilitating as it can (and does) drain my energy and zap my mood. As part of the Sick and Tired series, I thoroughly enjoyed Laughter for the Sick and Tired as it is lighthearted, the humor is clean, the author is a great storyteller, and reading this resulted in several belly laughs.   

Being a “glass is half-full” person myself, I enjoy reading inspiring, actionable books that encourage me to look on the bright side and stretch myself to be the best version of myself.  

In Determined, multiple sclerosis sufferer Mark Fry provides a direct, no-nonsense, forward-looking, Christian approach to living well with a chronic illness.  In each chapter, Fry offers a Bible verse with sage advice such as smile; do things for others to take the focus off yourself and become happier in the process; and use your illness as a means to rely on and glorify God.  I also enjoyed the 21-day devotional at the end of the book.   

I felt so much validation and empathy in this book.

Loss and grief from chronic illness can be difficult and complicated to deal with. I learned in this book that not only is it okay to grieve and notice my losses, but that I can still find joy even in the trenches with chronic illness. I loved the thought-provoking questions that I feel helped me to draw closer in my walk with God because I was encouraged to be fully honest with God.

After reading this book, I was left with the perspective that grief may be a part of chronic illness, but there is joy to be found in God in the midst of it all. 

Huber is an author and teacher whom I adore, and I am lucky enough to call friend and mentor, but her writing will make everyone fall in love with her.

Heartfelt, lyrical, brutally honest, and funny, this collection of essays will give you new insight into what it means to live in chronic pain. She writes in a way that makes illness and pain itself almost beautiful. If you want poetic writing, a compelling narrative, and an experimental approach to understanding the pain that is an inextricable part of life for some of us, this book is for you.

I was shaken by the power of Setiya’s writing. Academic philosophers are not exactly known for the beauty of their prose, but this book is, indeed, beautiful. And sad. And a bit dark. So basically, it was exactly what I look for in a book.

I was drawn in by Setiya’s early disclosure that he lives with chronic pain and that this would be part of his window into exploring suffering. As someone who also lives with pain (and who has tried to write about it), I found his reflections powerful.

His chapter on grief, too, stayed with me, so much so that I went back to it after experiencing a loss in my life. Perhaps that’s the greatest compliment I can give this book—that it truly made philosophy matter to me when I needed it to.

Sometimes the pain of our suffering is multiplied because those around us act as though grieving is a sign of weakness and lack of faith. Although we live in a world with many wonderful things, we will all experience suffering at some point. And trying to numb or avoid our pain doesn’t make our hurt and grief disappear. For that reason, I’ve been helped and encouraged by Mark Vroegop’s book because it teaches us to lament, which is acknowledging our grief and pain to God, giving ourselves the space and time to grieve while holding onto hope at the same time.

I read this book during the longest and most painful time in my life.

I’d been a faithful Christian, even volunteering about 30 hours each week for 9 months each year for several years, serving as the teacher for a local women’s Bible study. I couldn’t understand why I was experiencing so much pain and devastation.

This book was the one that helped me understand, tribulation is a tool of God that prepares Christians to be used by Him. And now some 30 years later, I can look back and see that very painful, extended time, was used by God for my good and all His glory as I now reach an international audience with my books and podcast.

I loved the different perspectives throughout this book on chronic illness. I loved how it displayed chronic illness from a caregiver's point of view, a personal point of view, and even shared how it can affect families and marriages. I loved the realness and rawness about chronic illness and how there was a faith aspect.

With so many different stories shared from different people, I was able to easily relate while also learning new perspectives about chronic illness. I was left feeling empathy, not just for those who live with chronic illness, but also for those who are impacted by the family member or friend suffering.