Confessions of a Middle-Aged Cancer Patient (and the results of the most recent testing)
In the last two weeks of waiting for the test results from my latest blood work to see what the cancer spots in my lung are doing, I’m faced with yet again the need to confront my feelings as they run rampant and to examine them in light of the truth of God’s words.
This is all somewhat embarrassing to admit, but hey, if there’s one thing, I could be really super good at, it might as well be brutal, humbling- honesty. While in the waiting process I tend to:
Read into my feelings, looking for God to give me a hint through how I feel
Look to people (Jamison) to reassure me, wishing God would give me my very own prophet to tell me how the story goes
Recede or pull away from God, wincing at the potential of bad news and wanting to “guard” myself
Look for scriptures I feel like God is giving me as an “answer” to my questions
Basically, like Gideon, I find myself looking for a fleece to throw out. I think “If it’s dewy in the morning I’ll know my cancer is gone for good this time!”
I want a sign.
To hear from God.
To FEEL close to him at the sound of his voice.
Or at least a prophet.
Handwriting on the wall.
Telling me clearly “RACHEL, THIS IS ALL GOING TO TURN OUT GREAT!”
The first time my cancer returned in 2020, we hung up the phone after getting the news from my oncologist “it’s back”, I went to my room face down on the floor and cried into the carpet. I cried and asked God over and over “is this disease going to take my life??” I thought we had a deal, and I had responded so well the first time around I had learned what I needed too and it wasn’t going to come back ever?! Right?!
In that moment, God did not respond audibly, or send a dove to land on my shoulder, or speak through Jamison like the prophets of old. What DID happen, was I suddenly heard these 3 words from John 19:30 in my mind: “It is finished.”
These are the words Jesus spoke on the cross, signaling the completion of his work of redemption. And the words that felt both intimidating and somehow calming as I wrestled with what it meant for my situation.
Suddenly I realized what it meant, because it meant what it had always meant since the time that Jesus spoke it. I felt deep conviction and hope restored that the real miracle, God’s salvation plan, had already been accomplished and here I was begging him for more time in this vapor of a life I’m living. I felt heard and seen by God in that moment and I knew he was gently reminding me and guiding my thoughts.
I wouldn’t say this kind of interaction with God is normative for my relationship with him, but I sure wish it was.
God has felt more near and present in certain seasons of life, so where has he been the last few weeks? In the past I’ve pulled away from God, reading my Bible, and praying in the waiting, for fear of lost answers to prayer. I’ve struggled with a desire to lower my expectations, to protect myself from disappointment in my heavenly Father. In the last few weeks though, I’ve been diligent to be obedient to devotionals and doing the right things even when I don’t feel like it...but I’ve still felt distant from God.
My brain tries to figure out what I’ve done wrong, or if my perceived silence from God is a sign of bad news.
Have I fallen out of his favor?
Have I sinned in some way and not confessed it?
Once again, throwing out my fleece hoping to get a sign.
*Enter stage right; Queen Esther*
So, picture this, all the swirling thoughts I mentioned above and then I come across a sermon on Esther by one of my favorite speakers, Pastor Brad Bigney. We met him last year at the annual ACBC conference in North Carolina and have stayed connected with his weekly sermons all the way from his church in Kentucky. Anyways, after listening to this particular sermon, I listened to it again. And then again, going back to my favorite parts.
God is not mentioned in the book of Esther once. Esther does not hear directly from God, she gets no visions, dreams, no prophet or prophesy to guide her. She was being raised by her cousin, Mordecai, and they were both captives in enemy territory. I love the way Brad Bigney draws you into the story of Esther and the dire situation she was in, both Esther and Mordecai were slaves to their circumstances. There wasn’t any living out of the modern-day mantra “you-do-you" They were both living lives that were decided for them, not ones they chose, and had to respond to life rather than chart it for themselves.
Pastor Brad went on to say:
“Our God is not weak or insecure. Therefore, stay with me, an unseen silent God is still at work in the details working all things together for his glory and our good.
Do not mistake silence for his absence.”
In listening to this beautiful story of Esther and how God was fully present in every detail from the poetic justice of Haman constructing his own gallows that were meant for Mordecai and Esthers people, and the quiet, patient trust and obedience of a closet-Jewish girl who risked being beheaded to save her people.
I am learning through the story of Esther to see the silent faithful God, that even when he is not mentioned by name or just plain seems absent, trust that he is working just as effectively as when he speaks audibly or intervenes miraculously. God is sovereign over people’s everyday choices and actions, and is working in the details of who, what, when, and where of the day in and day out.
More often than not, the Christian life looks more like the silent trust of Esther than God coming down and parting the waters that are in the way.
The Bloody Update Already
But now the waiting is over for a time, my blood work came back with good news, the cancer DNA in my blood went from 1.36 to 1.31!
Down a smidge, but given that my cancer is moderately aggressive, the fact that it's declined at all and without chemo is God’s providence.
This does leave us slightly in the same place we were before: waiting. This was good news but was not the miraculous decisive path that we are always tempted to look for. I am hopeful and so grateful God is allowing my body to start fighting off the cancer with the routine I’m currently doing, but I am even more thankful that God is leading me to a stronger, more tangible faith. A faith that is not insecure when God is silent but trusts the God who is working in that silence.