Ending Well

It was one year ago, on Christmas Day, when I first felt this weird tingling sensation in my neck, which quickly turned into a lump, and then several lumps, which tests and scans and biopsies subsequently confirmed as being Stage 4 metastatic cancer.  It has been a year of fighting hard for my health.  Fighting hard for my life.

The thing about cancer is that it is a vicious, aggressive, ruthless enemy.  But unlike other enemies, when you are fighting cancer, you can never, ever, not for one second, retreat.  There is no withdrawing from the battle, no R&R weekends where you can just be a normal person for a few days before putting your armor back on to fight another day.  No, cancer is in you, and if you have any hope of winning the battle, you can never stop fighting.

But I have discovered, surprisingly, that there is an even bigger enemy inside me, one that is even more brutal and unrelenting: the enemy of fear.  Not just fear of dying or fear of the unknown future, which is huge, but fear in every decision that I make. 

When I have time in the afternoon, should I fight my fatigue by taking a nap?  After all, sleep is restorative, the only time when cells regenerate.  Or should I use that time to go outside?  I mean, I need that oxygen-rich air and vitamin D from the sun to help fight this cancer.  

Should I press fresh organic fruits and vegetables through a juicer for those essential nutrients that my body needs, or should I stay away from fruit altogether, since cancer cells thrive on glucose?  

When the pain becomes unbearable, should I apply a heat pack, since cancer cells cannot survive heat, or should I go for the cold pack, which may reduce some of the inflammation?  

Every day, with every decision, I fight the enemy of fear, knowing that my very life depends on choosing wisely.  Always aware of the lethal consequences I will face if I don’t.

And then, of course, are the consuming fears for the future.  How will the loss of their mother affect my children?  Especially my sweet daughter who is only 4 years old.  Will she even remember me?

How will my husband work and provide for our family, while simultaneously take care of our children, manage the finances, oversee the medical and educational needs of our son with special needs, and maintain our home?  How will he be able to take on these huge responsibilities by himself?  How will he help our children grieve the loss of their mother, while he himself is grieving the loss of his wife?

I think of the broken relationships in my family, the hurt and the distance that has not yet been resolved.  What if those wounds are never healed?  What if those bonds are never mended?

What if my son, so dear to my heart, is never rescued from the chains that bind him?  What if he never understands how much God loves him?  What if he never glimpses the good plans that God has for his life?  The greatest desire of my heart is to see him rescued from the darkness, and to know that one day, many years from now, he and I will both be in heaven praising Jesus together!

What if my heart-felt, tear-stained prayers are never answered?

Last week, while sitting in the oncologist’s office, looking at images of my most recent scans – the scans that show the cancer activity “on fire” throughout a large part of my body - I heard her say words that would make even the most courageous warrior shake in her boots:  The cancer is now in advanced stages.  There is nothing more she can do.  It’s only a matter of time. 

And realistically, I didn’t really need those tests and scans.  They only confirmed what I already know.  For the past few weeks I have been fighting excruciating, debilitating pain.  All day I’m watching the clock to see if it is time to take my next dose of pain meds.  In the middle of the night, when I just can’t stand it one more second, I’m crying out into the darkness, God, please relieve this pain!  Please help me!  Realistically, I know that if I am going to find healing, I will need a miracle. 

And in those darkest, pain-filled moments, I resolve:  I may indeed be losing the battle for my health, but I refuse to lose the battle for my faith.  If I have any hope of winning this battle, I can never stop fighting.  I can never ever, not for one second, stop fighting to believe.  Even in my tears, I choose to believe in the goodness of God.

In Hebrews 11, the chapter is filled with the names of people who lived by faith.  People who trusted God in spite of impossible odds.  There are two little phrases in there, that at first glance, don’t look particularly encouraging.  

“These [people] all died in faith, not having received the things promised.” (v. 13)

“And all these [people], though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised.”  (v. 39)

These men and women, these people that God chose to do remarkable things, to be a part of the story that He is writing, went all the way to the end of their lives, still believing.  They still believed, even though the promises of God had not yet been fulfilled.  These verses are encouraging, because they show that even when you don’t see the miracle during your lifetime, you can still believe.

I want to be like that.  I want to end well.  I want to go all the way to the end of my life, still believing.  Even if my prayers are not yet answered in the way I had desperately hoped they would be.  Even if my health is not restored.  Even if those broken relationships are not mended.  Even if my son is not rescued.  Even if my precious little girl doesn’t remember me.  

Even if I never see the miracle happen.

Even then, I want to be commended for my faith.  I want to “die in faith.”  I want end, still believing.  Believing that He sees me and He sees my family.  Believing that He is still writing a story that isn’t finished yet.  Believing that He is still working out His perfect plan in His perfect time.

I want to end well, still believing in the goodness of God.

All my life You have been faithful.
And all my life You have been so, so good.
With every breath that I am able

I will sing of the goodness of God.

Lyrics to “Goodness of God”

www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0FBb6hnwTo