The Transition from Emergency to Long-Suffering

When you hear news that someone you care about has cancer you are immediately hit with the weight of that diagnosis. You get how serious it is. You get the fear and you anticipate with them as they wait on a plan, treatment, and answers. You feel the relief of a clean scan. You rejoice in the good news and thank God for answering prayers. And for you, the hard part is over. I know that perspective because I have been in that same seat with both my parents.

Now I have the perspective of having the diagnosis. Walking through the suffering of waiting and making decisions. Thinking through all of the details and having to explain to my children in a way that is honest but not too scary. I sat in the dark and waited for the test results to return. Every ding on my phone sent my heart rate up as I anticipated answers to so many questions. Had it ruptured? Had it spread? Would I need more surgery? Would I need chemo? How long will I have to be away from my kids? Are they okay? Are they scared? How much will this cost? How will these answers affect the future for me and my family? 

When all the tests came back clear I was overwhelmed with relief. I thought of all the people who prayed for me. I thought of plans for the days ahead because now I don’t have to get through a day at a time. This feeling of relief lasted about 48 hours. Then the doctor called and we started talking about next steps. We set a date for the next round of scans and bloodwork. Seeing that date- everything stopped. Time stood still. Suddenly 3 months felt like an actual eternity. The days dragged on and the weight never let up. I was solemn. With every greeting of excitement the weight felt heavier because not only am I feeling the weight but now I am adding more weight by feeling guilty about feeling the weight and not feeling the excitement that so many others are feeling and expressing. 

A fog came down. Tears filled my eyes. I tried to run to the Lord but I felt like I was up to my neck in quicksand. I couldn’t move myself. After a day of being horizontal for a majority of the day I reached out to my counselor whom I hadn't spoken to in 2 years. I just needed to talk to someone who wasn’t emotionally invested in me. Someone who could see in from the outside, help me get out of my head, and give it to me straight. 

Here is what I took away from that hour–

Cancer is long suffering. It didn’t end with the clean scan. I cannot go back and live like I did before cancer because life has forever changed. That doesn’t mean I live as a victim- but I do live as a survivor. And as a survivor- there is no turning back time or going back to normal. I can’t pretend that the past 6 weeks didn’t happen. I have to establish a new normal. In that new normal I have to learn to suffer well. For those initial 6 weeks of walking through it all I was desperate. Desperate for comfort and peace from the Lord. Desperate for answers that led me to my knees in acknowledgment of how helpless I am and how powerful God is. 

July 22nd will be a day I never forget. I'll never forget pulling myself out of a pile of kids and rushing outside upon hearing the word cancer. Or my husband following me as he saw the life drain from my face. I'll never forget the friends and family that showed up and cried with me. We were suddenly in emergency mode trying to figure out what the next steps should be and where to go. It was 6 weeks of pain and suffering. I'll never forget the indescribable peace from the Lord amidst that pain and suffering. I'll never forget the generosity of the people around me that prayed, gave, and supported us. I felt so undeserving of all the love I received from you.

I'll never forget that big prayers were answered. He protected me before I even knew there was something wrong. He heard your prayers and he answered in incredible ways. 

And so now the switch is to long suffering. Knowing that I am probably not going to die tomorrow (at least from cancer) but that I am not in the clear. I am not cancer free nor am I technically in remission (although my doctor said that I could describe it like that because it’s easier). I am in surveillance. With each new scan things could change or it could not. Still in the dark. So how do I suffer well? 

First off- I wear waterproof mascara because when I pray or worship the Lord I am going to cry. It's just a given now.

I learn contentment in my suffering. 

I lean into truth through God’s word, community, church, and worship. 

I memorize scripture and follow HARD after Him. 

In this world you will have trials, but take heart, Jesus has overcome the world. John 16:33

I lift my eyes toward the mountains. Where will my help come from? 

My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. 

He will not allow your foot to slip; Your Protector will not slumber. 

Indeed, the Protector of Israel does not slumber. 

Psalm 121:1-4

You can still rejoice with me that no more cancer was found. It’s not other people’s fault that I felt overwhelmed and guilty. That was my own doing (and probably with some help from the enemy). And I don't really feel that way anymore! Praise the Lord!

When the Israelites made it safely across the Red Sea they praised the Lord for his mercy and protection but they also knew the road ahead would be a long one (they didn’t know it would be 40 years but they knew they were in the wilderness and the road ahead would not be easy) and yet they praised him! 

I pray that God will protect my heart from hardening- that in the same breath that I fear, I would praise Him. 

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. Romas 8:18

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. Romas 8:28