Recently I’ve been asking God to give me His eyes. I want to know how He feels about people, situations, His world. Let me tell you something… riding the emotions of God is a lot to handle. One minute I’m looking at Danny with tears in my eyes as I am overwhelmed with how filled with pride God is about everything he does… and the next, I’m crying over someone being sick as God’s heart breaks. Early in our time here I woke up with cancer rushing into my thoughts. By our post breakfast prayer time I couldn’t pray for more than 2 sentences before I was in tears. All day I was overwhelmed. I would try to pray… and nothing would come but the many faces of cancer… the faces of the sick, the faces of survivors, the faces of families left behind. I began to journal and I just wrote cancer in the middle of the page with a big x through it. Then I began to write the names of everyone with cancer I could think of… then, I surrounded those names with the names of their friends and family, then when I had exhausted that list I began to weave scripture and song lyrics through my map of sickness. “He has sent me to comfort all who mourn and bestow on them a crown of beauty for ashes…” “And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well. The Lord will raise him up” and so on… I feel like cancer is attacking especially strong right now. At least once a week I am hearing of someone from home who is sick… and it’s too much. I am praying daily against these attacks in the name of Jesus, praying for healing of spirits and consequently of bodies, and praying for unexplainable joy for everyone involved in the midst of each storm. But God, it just doesn’t seem like enough. I know in my mind that we win battles through prayer… but in my heart I feel ineffectual and often overwhelmed! About a week later I was at the beach pondering the same topic. It was May 8th to be exact; one year since cancer took my Uncle Dave from this world. This rocked our family to our core. Someone I knew so personally, someone who loved the Lord, someone who lived life with great enthusiasm. But, as my Mom said in Uncle Dave’s eulogy… “he finally reached the point where his broken body could no longer contain his magnificent spirit.” He was a great husband, an enthusiastic and a fully present father even on his painful days, and he was a number one fan to pretty much everyone he knew. I’ll never forget that out of a crowd of thousands at my high school graduation I could hear his voice yelling goodbye to me through the crowd when their family had to leave. He was really awesome, to say the very least! Why cancer? I still don’t “get it.” And I don’t really think I ever will. Why is our world so broken that our flesh is literally rotting? Why do people have to get cancer? Why do some people die from cancer? Why can’t everyone be healed? Why do good people have to die? Heck, why to bad people have to die? I guess it’s not even the dying… that’s what’s at the end of the road for each of us. So more specifically, why cancer? Why can’t we just say our good-byes and head up to heaven? No thanks, Cancer. I am hoping for an Elijah-style chariot with fire to take me out of this world in a whirlwind. Recently I read a book called The Shack where a man goes back to the site of a horrific tragedy in his life and literally meets God. You will have to read it to fully understand, it just sounds weird in type… but in this book, he is speaking with God, and God gives him a perspective on suffering that I need to hear as I am praying daily through the cancer thing. “Just because I work incredible good out of unspeakable tragedy doesn’t mean I orchestrate the tragedy. Don’t ever assume that my using something means I caused it or that I need it to accomplish my purposes. That will only lead you to false notions about me. Grace doesn’t depend on suffering to exist, but where there is suffering you will find grace in many facets and colors.” This is exactly what I needed to hear. Where there is suffering there is indeed grace… even if it is in a color we can’t perceive in the moment. God will accomplish his purposes IN SPITE of cancer. Satan attacks our bodies, but our spirits are not his to touch. Our world is broken. We, “demanded our independence and now are angry with the one who loves us enough to give it to us” (Also from The Shack). There is nothing we can do but pray in power and boldness and believe that God doesn’t cause it but he will redeem it. God, even when I am up to my eyeballs in grief, I love that you will always be the gentle voice of comfort. I love having your eyes. You are weeping for all of my sick friends… and although you won’t always swoop in and stop the consequences of our fallen world… you are in it with us. Thank you Jesus. To each of you fighting “the” fight, who prompted this blog: I pray for you specifically each day. I pray for your families. I pray that you will always have someone with you at every doctors appointment. I pray for comfort. I pray that as God’s love bears all things you will see the present and make the best decisions while living in the hope of eternity. I pray for healing in your spirits. I pray for healing of your bodies. I pray that some mornings you will wake up overwhelmed with joy and that you will dance in that for a few minutes before your day begins. You are great parents. You are great friends. When I think of what it means to “be love” I often think of many of you. Cancer sucks, and I’m sorry it’s in you, but it will never ever define you. This is a poem about cancer that I found at some point. It has a special place in my heart as it really cuts to the heart of the matter. I hope that if you’ve ever interacted with cancer from any angle it will speak to you as well… Close the Door When You Leave by Michael Hayes Samuelson I never asked you to visit, at least I don’t believe I did Maybe…I don’t know It’s so confusing At any rate, you’re a rude guest You take my energy, Rob my sleep, and with a stick You swirl and distort my dreams All right; You are here — for now But understand There are two places That are forever off limits You may not tread on my spirit You may not occupy my soul I have heard of your visits to others I know the damage you leave in your path The wanton disregard for innocence, value, and what some would call fairness Also, I hear that laughter confuses you; that good foods make you feel bad, and That nothing causes you more distress than an autumn sunset, the forever blue of a summer sky, Or the unconditional radiance of a child’s smile Listen and understand You might pilfer my closets, empty all the drawers, and trash my house But there are two places forever off limits You may not tread on my spirit You may not occupy my soul Do not mistake my nausea, weakness, and pain as signs of your victory They are simply small dents in the armor I wear to fight you Instead, look deeply into my eyes They will once again remind you that there are two places forever off limits You must not… May not… Will not tread on my spirit You must not… May not… Will not occupy my soul
“Whatever my lot, though has taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul…”
