Amazed – that is the word that comes to my mind when I think over the past 3 weeks. I’m am really amazed by the view of Christ’s Body that I’ve gotten to see. It’s as if I’ve been taken to the top of the Empire State Building and given a view of the city that until then I’d only seen from the ground. It’s easy to become discouraged when I watch the news. It’s even easier to become discouraged, and sometimes downright depressed, when I meditate on my own world. But as with either case, perspective can provide a view that really changes us.
In the past three weeks my perspective has been changed. First, in that moment that Leslie told me over the phone, “I have colon cancer,” my perspective immediately changed. It no longer mattered that Munchkin had just tee-tee’d on the carpet. She’s three. She was playing. She didn’t make it. But it was on the carpet and so I flipped my lid. But then the phone rang and everything changed. My perspective as I cleaned up the mess was that God allowed that very thing so that I could kneel down and hang my head while I was cleaning it so that the kids never noticed I was sobbing. Urine-soaked carpet was miniscule in light of my wife having cancer.
In the past several months I have expressed to friends my growing frustration with the church. Not my church. And not The Church (Christ’s Bride). I love my church. I love Christ’s Body (I know better than to disrespect Him and his Bride). I allowed the lines to blur between The Church and the church, the institution in America that people, both saved and unsaved, attend each week. This is the visible church. But boy has my perpesctive changed in the past three weeks. I have been amazed at the love and care of believers all over for Leslie and for our family. Phone calls, emails, blog posts and comments, visits, cards, monetary gifts, hugs, prayers, etc… The morning of Leslie’s surgery I was surrounded not only by family, but by many friends and fellow believers. After the surgery came more visits, flowers, calls, and cards. Throughout this experience so many have written such deep words of encouragement on this blog and on Leslie’s. Today at work, countless people approached me to ask how Leslie was doing and to tell me they are praying. I can see from where I am, with this new perspective, how Christ loves us through His Body. A church we have never attended has sent a card, flowers and even a very generous gift to help with expenses. Our current and past church is organizing meals. Countless other churches have added Leslie to their prayer times. Countless believers have offered to do “anything.” Suddenly I find myself wanting to write God-glorifying posts that magnify His Bride. A few weeks ago I was forming a number of posts in my head that could have been characterized as scathing. The Body isn’t perfect because it’s made up of sinners. But Christ is perfecting His Bride, to present Her spotless before the Father one day in the future. How thankful I am in this moment to be a witness of this perfecting process. And not only to be a witness, but also to be a benficiary.
I write these things to not only give God glory, but to encourage any one who reads this not to do what I have done over and over again. The visible church can be a frustrating thing to view. But take a lesson from me if this is the case; change your perspective. Don’t wait for the traumas of life to open your eyes. Look around and see the work of our Mighty King, who not only rules His Kingdom, but works through His Kingdom. Ask God to give you eyes to see His Bride and not be blinded by the visible church. See the invisible Church! And if you are a believer, and therefore a part of the invisible Church, don’t be invisible. Serve Christ by serving others. Share what you believe. Then you can see what is invisible.
Cancer can quickly open your eyes (or harden your heart). Not only has Leslie’s handling of this disease opened my eyes to God’s goodness, so has the testimony of Jan Kooistra. She is the wife of Paul Kooistra, the coordinator of Mission to the World (where I work). Since joining the staff at MTW I have learned quite a bit about Jan and her battle with cancer. I’ve also learned of the power of prayer as I’ve met believers all over the country who have been praying for her. I’ve watched and listened to Dr. Kooistra share of his love and care for her. What an example this has been to me. As I’ve heard these things I never imagined that I would get to put them into practice, and so soon! Oh, that I would lay down my life for Leslie the way that Christ laid down His life for His Bride. Jan recently shared her story and I would like to share it with you. So many things that she has shared ring true with us now. So many of her words were the very ones that Leslie has used. God has been using the Kooistras to build my faith, long before I knew I would ever need it. Jan’s cancer is terminal. Yet her joy shines bright. Her is her story:
When Steve Collins asked me if I would give the devotional at this luncheon, the answer came quickly and easily—No! I’m not a public speaker…getting up in front of a group absolutely terrifies me! But the Holy Spirit started talking to me just as quickly. In essence, He said, “Jesus went to the cross for you, you know.” He did not have to say more and here I am, in front of you. I could do no other.
First of all, I want to thank all of you for the prayers you have offered up on my behalf, as well as prayers for my husband and family. Those prayers have given us the strength and encouragement to keep on keeping on, to trust in the only wise God and to love Him the more as we walk through our Gethsemane. Because this is way out of my comfort zone, this is probably more a sharing of my life than it is a devotional.
Everyone knows, I’m sure, that I’ve been living with metastatic breast cancer for almost 4.5 years now. It’s the one word, in any language, that strikes fear in everyone. The original diagnosis in 1995 was frightening, but after 2 surgeries and 5 years of oral medication life returned to what seemed “normal.” We had almost forgotten that I HAD cancer. But then….
A scan revealed a lump on my clavicle. A doctor palpated my neck one Monday afternoon and said, “I can tell you right now, you’ve got cancer!” And he left the room. I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. We went home in shock, returning the next week for more biopsies and scans. And he was right. It was metastatic breast cancer, which is incurable—I would be kept alive as long as possible.
My mind was numb and at the same time in a whirl. I wanted to grow old with my husband. I wanted to see my grandchildren grow up to love and serve the Lord. I didn’t want my aged mother to have to watch her daughter die, nor did I want my children to have to watch. I wasn’t ready to leave this world. And the questions that raced through my mind…. Who would take care of my husband? Wash his clothes…iron his shirts…cook his dinner…pay the bills…make sure the taxes were paid…and on and on I would go.
All that took about another week, but then the word spread and we started hearing from people all over the world. It was obvious they were all praying, for we found peace—peace in knowing we were in the loving arms of the Lord Jesus. Peace that could not be conjured on our own, peace that only He can give. Peace in knowing that God was in control.
And so the endless trips to Winship Cancer Center, this doctor, that doctor, this scan, that scan, this chemo, that chemo. Some chemo’s worked, some did not. Cancer is tricky—it changes properties. There were hospital stays for blood clots in my lungs, a long bout in the hospital after finding that my liver did not have the enzymes needed to metabolize the chemo I was taking at the time. It destroyed the mucus membranes, from my lips and mouth all the way down through my intestinal tract. That was a very frightening time, though again, knowing I was in the hollow of His hand brought the peace that can only come from Him.
There are those in the medical field who have urged me to join their support group and can’t understand why I decline. My family is my great support, and of course the faithful prayers of so many. Frankly, it has amazed and humbled me to hear of the people who have not tired of praying for me, so many that have prayed daily and continue to do so.
Paul Jr., our son. moved his wife and 3 little girls from St. Louis to within 5 miles just so they could be near us. He is always full of questions about the latest treatment, cat scan or bone scan. He’s fed us many of his gourmet creations, gives great hugs and calls just to say, “I love you, Mom.” His wife is always ready to run errands for me or bring her famous chicken and cheese soup. And who can resist a 2-year-old’s sloppy kiss on the cheek, two chubby hands holding your face and the words, “MY gramma.” Or watching her 6-year-old sister push herself to the limit on her swim team to bring home a first place ribbon.
Shary, in St. Louis, calls daily and keeps me posted on Sam’s Little League games and Maggie’s last craft project. Though I think she finds it difficult to talk about my cancer, I know she is daily in prayer for me and would cheerfully run the vacuum or clean the bathroom for me if she were about 600 miles closer.
Sidney, who is here with me today, was living with us from last Christmas until just a couple of weeks ago, when she and her husband found the house the Lord had for them to move into. She has been a great help with cooking meals, being my personal nurse, and ever my cheerleader. Their children have kept me smiling with questions like, “Gramma, is your hair falling off?” Or when 8-year-old Alysia, upon asking me to remove the scarf covering my bald head, gave me her most horrified look and then quickly wrapped me up in her arms and said, “You’re still beautiful to me, Gramma.”
And of course my husband. THE example of “Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” His constant prayers, love and encouragement have been unfailing. And he’s learned how to use the washing machine, where to find the vacuum cleaner, and has advanced his culinary skills way beyond peanut butter sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs. Other than my own salvation, he is God’s greatest gift to me.
The Lord has given me a wonderful doctor. Though not a Christian, he is the most caring and compassionate man. He never enters or leaves the room without a hug…for both of us. Believe me, he has heard much about the Lord, and though he’s firm humanist, the seeds have been and are being planted.
The nurse who has taken care of me week after week is a Christian and has become a dear friend. In the unbelievable maze of Winship Cancer Center, she has cut through many obstacles for us and made our trek through that maze a little easier. Unfortunately for us, she was recently promoted to Assistant Director and we are now left to God’s divine intervention in other ways.
We’ve become friends with the pharmacist there, who is a Christian and very active in mission work in Kenya.
Of course there are those around me in the other chemo chairs. Some know the Lord, others do not. We meet their loved ones, we share stories, we weep together, we rejoice together, we laugh together. We share terrible chemo jokes, like “Why don’t they have an express lane at the grocery store for cancer patients? After all, we don’t have as much time as other people.” Or, more seriously, we questions things like, “Should I buy a new pair of shoes? After all, will I be here to wear them?” It’s amazing the things you think and talk about when you have cancer.
Sometimes I go in and find that one of those friends has died. Those are really bad days. I’ve known one who left life with no interest in the Lord whatsoever, another who claimed to once know Him but over time rejected Him, and one who was filled with the love of his Savior and was a testimony of God’s love and care until his home going.
It is very fascinating as God weaves the fabric of my life, bringing His people, and some who are not, to minister to me in a variety of ways. And if God has used me in any way in that place, then it is my privilege to be there.
So, how do I walk with cancer day by day, week by week, month after month and year after year? First of all, I take one day at a time. I remember the blessings throughout my life. I remember how good life has been…and still is. I remember that I was not created for this world, but for eternal life in heaven, with my God and King. As the old spiritual aptly says, “this world is not my home, I’m just passin’ through.”
I remember Tim Keller once said, “Never, never, never think that God is not at work because you cannot see it. And never, ever, ever, ever think you can figure out what God is doing.”
Do I ever have fears, do I have doubts, do I have anxiety? Of course…there are moments, hours, and sometimes days when I wonder if I can keep going. I am human, I am frail, I am imperfect and in constant need of the Savior. I need to begin every day anew with Jesus. He is my comfort, my strength, my peace. And I remember Psalm 139. “You formed my inward parts, you knitted me together in my mother’s womb…your eyes saw my unformed substance, in your book were written, everyone of them, the days that were formed for me.” I remember Moses telling Joshua, “be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.”
I remember John 14:1-3. “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.” I remember Isaiah 26:3. “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.” And I remember Psalms 31:14-15a. “But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in your hand….”
Amen.
