What Kind of Sufferer Am I?

“Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.” James 1:12

Have you ever been offended by the words of comfort that someone offers you? Shortly after my cancer diagnosis, I bristled when someone shared the truth that God works all things for the good of those who love Him. (Romans 8:28) On the other hand, I felt buoyed when someone offered me false hope, prophesying without conviction, “You WILL beat this!!” I wanted to hear empty words of hope, not the cold, hard truths about how God uses suffering in my life. Because of my own reaction to words of comfort, I have become wary of offering any words to others during their time of distress. It’s so difficult to know what will speak to them and encourage them, versus what will bring added grief and pain.

In his book “Walking with God through Pain and Suffering”, Timothy Keller shares his insights on the diversity of suffering and how the words we use will have a different impact depending on the type of sufferer a person is. Keller writes: “Some people in suffering are tempted toward self-pity and pride, toward feeling like a noble martyr. They need gentle opposition. Others are tempted toward shame and self-hatred. They need assurance.” Keller’s categories, while certainly not applicable to every situation, have been such a help to me.

Just this morning, I was discussing them with a mature Christian friend of mine. She is staying in our home while her family has moved to another city a few hours away. Because she is the bread-winner in the family, she has to stay here to work until her new job begins in a couple of weeks. Going through bankruptcy, losing their home and selling most of their possessions has been a major trial for her, and it would likely have been avoided if her husband had been able to work these past five years, but he has tried repeatedly and unsuccessfully to find a position. This friend told me that she always appreciates how I don’t give her any slack, and how my words convict her to pull herself up by her bootstraps, trust God, and get moving, to “walk on water and keep your eyes on Jesus”. At first, I was a bit alarmed to hear my words thrown back at me. “Have I shown you enough compassion?” I asked anxiously, because sometimes I (and many cancer patients, I have learned) don’t view non-life-threatening trials as seriously or as compassionately as they regard a terminal disease. Once I even said to her, after she had given me a list of all the truly distressing events of the day: “Well, all I can say is, at least you still have your health!”

My gracious friend assured me that she has always needed to hear the words that I have to say, and that those who give her too much sympathy or pity do nothing to comfort her. That was when I realized that she must be in the first category of Keller’s sufferers: those “noble martyrs” who need words of “gentle opposition”, Biblical truths that will convict them. My friend’s husband, on the other hand, definitely falls in the other camp. He is beaten down by feelings of uselessness and defeat, fretting that he is unworthy and unable to provide for his family. Tending toward shame and self-hatred, he needs more sympathy and positive encouragement from others, not gentle chastisement.

After neatly categorizing my friends, I realized that I had given very little thought to myself. What kind of sufferer am I? While there is overlap depending on the situation or trial, I must confess that when it comes to suffering with cancer, I would be the former type: the one who falls more easily into self-pity, the victim of my circumstances, the “noble martyr” who perseveres when life, through no fault of mine, throws arrows my way.

When I think “I don’t deserve this disease”, I need a friend to say to me gently: “This is the fallen world in which we live. Jesus didn’t deserve to die for your sins, but he chose to suffer on your behalf, so trust him NOW. Go to him and let him comfort you and fill you with his peace. There is no pain that you are suffering now that he has not endured as well. Rest assured that he has everything under control.”

“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

When I believe that I am just a victim of circumstance, I need to be reminded: “You are not a victim; we who are in Christ can claim his promises and his strength! He has crushed the power of sin and death. Claim the victory that you have in Him, and rejoice in this gift. Trust him and look for the ways that he will use this disease to strengthen you and to bless others in your life. Look for the purpose in it and the blessings from it, not just the difficult times and the losses. His grace IS enough.”
“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” Romans 8:37

When I wallow in the self-pitying thought, “Why me?” I need a friend to prick my conscience and say: “How much has the Lord spared you and saved you from in this life that you don’t even recognize and that you never even deserved? Have you even thanked Him lately for all the amazing gifts that He has given you? His grace knows no bounds! Rejoice that He is with you, that He will never leave you! The fact that He is allowing you to go through this trial is proof enough that there is a great purpose in it. Be part of the blessing—let Him use the disease for His glory! Don’t miss out on the miracles that can be achieved through this trial by turning away from Him!”

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” James 1: 2—4

Thank You, Lord, for friends who speak the truth in love, and for Your Word that brings life. Thank You for all the pain that You have spared me from, and all the suffering that You have entrusted me with. Let me rejoice that ALL THINGS—even incurable diseases—can be used by You for the good of those who love You. May my disease be used for Your glory! Amen.

The Tyranny of the Urgent

“I have brought you glory on earth by completing the work you gave me to do.” John 17:4

Most cancer patients battle fatigue on a regular, if not daily, basis. When I have a break in my treatment every three weeks or so, I’m amazed at how energetic I feel. It reminds me of the “nesting” activity that would strike at the end of each of my pregnancies. I am bursting with new ideas for improving the house, for new recipes, or for new curriculum for a high school program I’m involved with. I pull out books that I’ve been yearning to read, and I begin a major organizational project—or more accurately, several projects at once—such as cleaning out the pantry or organizing my beloved books. And then all my efforts come crashing to a halt a few days later when the fatigue sets in again, that never-ending cycle of too much and too little energy. Although it’s easy to blame my cancer for my lack of progress, the truth is, I have just as much time every day as everyone else. It’s my pattern of living that is the real problem.

Charles E. Hummel’s booklet “The Tyranny of the Urgent” is worth rereading every few months. By using the life of Jesus as a model, Hummel shows how we can have peace in our souls and joy in our tasks without the constant burden of guilt over what we have left undone. For one thing, Jesus was always about his Father’s task (“I always do what pleases him.” John 8:29). That is why, Hummel writes, Jesus was able to completely fulfill his ministry on earth in only three years. When I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma more than five years ago, I hoped for at least three years more to “minister” to my family like Jesus had. Instead, God has graciously nearly doubled that time for me, yet I have wasted more hours than I can bear to admit. I have missed endless opportunities to use my time to glorify God. But our gracious Lord always gives me another chance, another day to be used for Him.

The other lesson Hummel says we can learn from the life of Jesus is the balance between time with God and time with others. Compared to most Christians today, Jesus spent an amazing amount of time with his Father. He actually abided with God on a constant basis, seeking His will and His purpose every moment of the day. I tend to compartmentalize my prayer life and my practical life, and of course the practical demands squeeze out my time with the Lord. Learning to abide with Him in the midst of my activities has become a major and exciting practice: when I do it right, I can feel peace and a nearly leisurely sense in my spirit in the midst of busy moments. Abiding in Him and being about His business makes it clear to me what the priorities should be in my life. I’m able to prioritize the “important” and not become a slave to the “urgent”. 

Living with fatigue is not really the problem—God knows my limitations and what He apportions for me will be better than anything I could dream up for myself. As I heard on a Christian radio station recently: “God’s plans are better than our dreams.” And if we are about His work, our lives will be “finished” lives, no matter how long or short they might be.

Lord, I pray for Your will to be done in my life and in the lives of those who seek you. As we abide in You, show us how to use the time that You have given us. Let our lives be “finished” lives that bring You glory and complete the work that You have given us to do. Guide our decisions as we undertake new tasks and apportion our time. And thank You for every one of our days, precious gifts from You. Amen.

I'm Not Alone in This

“The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” Deuteronomy 31:8

As I pass the fifth year since my diagnosis of multiple myeloma, I’m amazed at how little this disease has negatively impacted my life. By God’s grace, I can remember more joyful than painful days. My loved ones give me an incredulous look when I say this, and I have to remember that sometimes it is more difficult to watch someone you love struggle than it is to suffer yourself. But even though I mean it—I don’t think cancer has taken much away from me in terms of quality of life—that statement might sound a little disingenuous to those who know what I’ve been through. Yet, when I try to focus on the events that “should” be considered terrible, I’m unable to feel the depth of despair that others assume I should be experiencing. I have worried that I’m in a perpetual state of denial, or perhaps too emotionally shallow, or that my survival instincts are off the charts. But I know the real reason I’m blessed with such a perspective: It’s because I’m not in this alone. I’ve never been alone in this. Jesus has been beside me, holding my hand or even carrying me through all of the traumatic times. By God’s grace, I’m able to dwell on all the joys that each year brings, in spite of cancer, and sometimes even because of it.

I am not in this alone, and if you are a follower of Jesus, you are never alone either. Jesus faithfully continues to carry me through the tough days. His presence changes EVERYTHING. On days when I have to stay home to recover from a treatment, it can be tempting to feel sorry for myself and to let loneliness lead to self-pity. Instead, I’ve come to look upon those times as opportunities. They are precious opportunities to bask in the presence of the One who loves us more than we can fathom. He knows us intimately, loves us deeply, and will comfort us with the most incredible peace and assurance. Spending time with Him not only changes the level of pain and sadness during the trials: it changes my entire perspective on what has been and on what lies ahead. During times of pain or uncertainty, He draws even nearer to me so that my memories of these events have a sweet, almost nostalgic, feel to them. The overriding memory is not the painful suffering, but the way He wrapped me in His reassuring presence. Even today, as I sit home with a virus because of my compromised immune system, I can rejoice that I’m not sitting here alone. I’m not alone. I never will be. And you, believer, are never alone either.

Oswald Chambers writes in his devotional My Utmost for His Highest about Jesus’ promise always to be with us: “When it seems that there is nothing and no one to help you, say to yourself, “But ’The Lord is my helper’ this very moment, even in my present circumstance.” Are you learning to listen to God before you speak, or are you saying things and then trying to make God’s Word fit what you have said? Take hold of the Father’s assurance, and then say with strong courage, “I will not fear.” It does not matter what evil or wrong may be in our way, because “He Himself has said, ’I will never leave you . . .’ ”

Kutless: “Carry Me to the Cross”

Highly Recommended!

A beautiful expression of praise that we are never alone:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0UeOSrTEAs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6BahULUIdf0        (lyrics)

Dear Jesus, Thank You for your beautiful presence. Thank you for the grace you show me every day. Thank you for carrying me every moment. Thank you for turning my mourning into dancing, and my trials into victories. Thank you for all the answered prayers—the healings you have performed in the lives of many loved ones, the beautiful way you received our mother into glory this past year, and the testimonies you continue to give our family. Most of all, thank you for your promise never to leave me. I pray that all Your children might receive the blessing of the knowledge and assurance of Your comforting presence. Amen!

The Future is God's Job

“Then they believed his promises and sang his praise. But they soon forgot what he had done and did not wait for his plan to unfold.” Psalm 106: 12—13

Sometimes the best lessons in the Bible come indirectly—not from studying the laws and the commands, but from discovering the mistakes of others. I can look at the ancient Israelites and think, “What a shame they didn’t just wait for God’s plan in their lives. They made things so much harder on themselves.” Then this warm yet strangely uncomfortable feeling slowly works its way from my head to my toes. My heart begins pounding and I feel like a schoolgirl about to be reprimanded by her teacher. The Spirit whispers to my soul, “You are exactly like them.”

I do believe God’s promises and I do sing His praise. But I also want God to tell me what will happen next. I want to know when, how, and most importantly—WHY. When will He heal me? How long, O Lord, must I wait on You? And how is it going to happen? Will it be with a raw-food diet or some alternative treatment, the use of chemotherapy, or bone marrow transplants? Or, as many Christians ironically are loath to consider, will it be through the passage of death that leads to a most amazing eternity with Him and a most perfect spiritual body, where sickness and weeping will be no more?  I, for one, would love to know! But even if given the answers to how and when, I still would not be satisfied. I would want to know why He appointed this for me. What is the purpose? What is He hoping to accomplish?  

God, in His infinite wisdom, does not usually give us detailed descriptions of how He is planning to carry out His perfect plan for our lives. Instead, He asks us to trust that He knows what He is doing. He created us, He loves us, and He promises to protect and provide for us every moment of every day. He will give us all the information that we need when we need it, not a moment too soon nor a moment too late. He will give us all the grace we need to endure our trials when we need it, not a moment too soon nor a moment too late. His timing is always perfect. His plan is always for our good. The future is God’s job, not ours. All He asks is that we trust Him, rest in Him, allow Him to comfort us, believe in His promises, and wait for Him. It sounds so easy, but even those simple tasks are impossible for me without His grace.

Father, forgive me when I take matters into my own hands without consulting You first. Forgive me for looking for other ways to calm my anxious heart instead of turning to You. I beg You to increase my faith, and help me to trust You. Help me and my precious brothers and sisters in Christ to live like we believe Your promises. Let our lives be a source of hope and peace to others. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

The Limitations of Sickness

“Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help given by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance.” Philippians 1:18b-19

As one who wrestles with cancer, I sometimes feel like my sickness has the upper hand and has me pinned to the mat. I have to remind myself that by the grace of God, I am the one on top—my sickness is limited and finite and not in control. As a character in the teen movie Penelope puts it: “It’s not the power of the curse, it’s the power you GIVE the curse” that is the problem. But nobody expresses this idea better than Charles Spurgeon, who writes about the limitations of sickness in his devotional “Evening by Evening”. He reminds us that God is control of our sickness and it can only go as far as He ordains. As God’s purpose is always for the “instruction” and not the “destruction” of His people, we can trust that He will carry us through the trial and that He will never give us more than we can bear.

“The God of providence has limited the time, manner, intensity, and effects of all our sicknesses. Each throb is decreed, each sleepless hour predestinated, each relapse ordained, each depression of spirit foreknown, and each sanctifying result eternally purposed.” Remembering what God can do through my disease and how all of this can and should be for His glory helps keep me from spiraling down into self-pity. Instead, I can thank Him for the beautiful day that I am living right now and look to see what He has in store for me and for His kingdom. For He still has great plans for each and every one of us—every single day. As long as we draw breath, He has a beautiful purpose for us.

“This limit [of sickness] is wisely adjusted to our strength, to the end designed, and to the grace apportioned. Affliction does not come by chance—the weight of every stroke of the rod—is accurately measured. He who made no mistakes in balancing the clouds, and measuring out the heavens, commits no errors in measuring out the ingredients which compose the medicine of souls. We cannot suffer too much—nor be relieved too late!” These words of Spurgeon’s are incredibly comforting to me. So often I forget that God will always rescue me in time. How often does He need to do this before I remember it always? He will always rescue me at the exact time that I can bear no more. He will never, ever let me suffer more than the grace that He gives me to endure it. And none of my suffering is ever in vain if I allow Him to work it for good—for His glory, for my benefit as I draw closer to Him, and for blessing those around me. As my youngest daughter told me about three years ago when she was only 13, “Mom, your cancer has brought me so much closer to God.” Her spiritual growth is a blessing that I have thanked God for so many times. That alone stops me in my tracks whenever the “why me’s” begin to plague me.

“The limit is tenderly appointed. The knife of the heavenly Surgeon never cuts deeper than is absolutely necessary. ‘He does not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men.’ A mother’s heart cries, ‘Spare my child!’ but no mother is more compassionate than our gracious God.” I am awestruck when I remember how much God loves me. He loves me more than any parent, than any human being, ever could. He grieves to see me grieve, and He only allows that grief into my life when He has a beautiful, higher purpose for it. Here on earth, I can’t conceive what that purpose can be, but I can trust that a God whose love for me is so deep and wide and infinite is using all of this cancer to accomplish something beautiful and lasting, and to bless me in ways that otherwise would not have been possible for this strong-willed child.

Lord, help to remind me that cancer never has the upper hand—only You do. You are in control of this sickness. You will only allow it to go so far, and it will never hamper Your perfect plan for my life. This cancer is pinned down and limited by You, and it cannot escape from beneath You. You have rescued me time and again from fear and pain. You seek my good at all times and will never allow disease to thwart Your perfect plan for this day. Praise be to the Father, the Son, and to the Holy Spirit!

Healed Enough for Today

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth gives way, and though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling…Be still, and know that I am God.”  Psalm 46: 1—3, 10

 

The past few months have certainly tested our family but by the grace of God, our circumstances have not overcome us! After snorkeling with my teenagers one afternoon while vacationing in Mexico, I began walking back to the van when all of a sudden my right femur just…broke. It just broke. It was a very surreal experience, as most experiences are for those living with cancer. I grabbed my daughter’s arm and gently lowered myself to the ground. I was not in great pain, just confused and trying to convince myself that this was not happening to me, and certainly not in Mexico, of all places! My doctor had not wanted me to travel for other reasons, as my immune system was still reconstituting itself after my allogeneic bone marrow transplant 7 months earlier. We knew there was a tumor in my leg and had scheduled radiation to begin the day after our trip, but the radiologist had assured me that the bone was not compromised in any way. Apparently, she was wrong. I spent a day in a small local Mexican hospital where I was never more relieved to have studied Spanish in high school and college, as not a word of English was spoken or understood. A kind, elderly surgeon stabilized my leg, and then my hospital in the States arranged for a leer jet to pick me up in Cancun. Just two days later an orthopedic surgeon inserted a titanium rod in the broken femur, and I was up and walking and heading home.

 

My quick recovery was almost more amazing than the injury itself! Yet, it took some time and physical therapy to regain strength in my right leg, as I learned first to ambulate without a walker and then without a cane. Friends once again rallied around us, bringing us meals and driving me to radiation appointments. I couldn’t believe how quickly I found myself in such a needy, dependent condition. Lord, I thought, I don’t need any more reminders that life is fragile and special and wonderful! I have learned this lesson—You can stop teaching me! But during these four years since my diagnosis of multiple myeloma, I have been practicing a one-day-at-a-time mindset. Life can change so quickly with this disease and events happen so unexpectedly, that every day I try to have my life in order. Every day is special; every single day I have something to be grateful for. I try to soak myself in an “attitude of gratitude”, giving thanks before leaving my bed in the morning, and when the reminder on my cell phone tells me to “give thanks” in the middle of my busy day, and before I fall asleep at night. And God is always so close to me during times of trial that I can feel His presence so much more than during the “easier” times in my life, which never ceases to amaze me and always brings the joy that the apostle Paul writes about in Romans: “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope.” (Romans 5: 3—4)

 

Last month, I visited my older daughter at college, hoping to encourage her by how well my recovery was going and how much I had already resumed my normal activities. She told me that she had found comfort and inspiration in words I had spoken to her soon after my injury, words I didn’t even remember saying. She had asked me if God was ever going to heal me. I didn’t know, and still don’t know, whether His plan is to heal me completely of this disease. But, I told her, “He’s healed me enough for today.” And that is truly all that matters. He’s given me the strength and the courage and the hope for THIS day. This is the day that matters—not all the tomorrows that have yet to be and that will never be guaranteed to anyone. But look at what He is doing NOW! Today is a great day—I am driving and cooking and working and serving and worshipping an amazing God! What more can I ask of Him? He has healed me enough to live abundantly today, and that is worth all my rejoicing, and why He is worthy of all my trust and hope.

 

Thank You, Lord, for the amazing grace that You pour into my life. You truly are my refuge, my strength, and my “very present help in trouble”. I could not experience abundant living without You! Because of Your presence that surrounds me with such great love, I did not experience fear while alone in a foreign hospital; I did not experience fear over the future. I rested in You and trusted in You, and You were so faithful. Help me to abide in Your presence and Your love every day and never take You for granted. Bless those who need You right now and who are crying out to You for salvation. Rescue them and surround them with the peace that comes only from You, that special peace that surpasses all human understanding. In Your son Jesus’ holy name, Amen.

Accomplishing Great and Noble Tasks

“If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.” Philippians 2: 1—4 

One of the greatest heartaches when someone is diagnosed with cancer is the illusion (and it IS an illusion—nobody knows the future!) that he will never accomplish all of his goals in this lifetime. Our diagnosis is such a call to action, such an urgent appeal to our ego to get moving! It can make us mourn dreams that we never would have acted on even if we had NOT had cancer; everything becomes more important simply because now we may never have the opportunity to do it. I, for example, never liked to run before my cancer destroyed the vertebrae in my spine, but sometimes I find myself mourning the fact that I will never jog again, when I know full well that I WOULDN’T ever go jogging even if I COULD. It is that forbidden or impossible-to-reach fruit that looks most delicious. Instead of mourning what I cannot do, I am trying to imitate an amazing woman who could neither hear, nor see, nor speak. Like most of us, Helen Keller admitted that she longed to accomplish “great and noble” tasks in this lifetime. “But,” she added, “it is my chief duty and joy to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble. It is my service to think how can I best fulfill the demands that each day makes on me, and to rejoice that others can do what I cannot.” 

The more I read that quote, the more amazed I am at her attitude and approach to life. She not only believed it was her “duty”, but also her “joy” to treat every little task as something great and noble. When our energy is compromised by chemotherapy or other treatments, we might barely be able to get dressed, let alone pour a cup of coffee for someone else, or hang up someone’s coat for them. But even those humble tasks can be considered great and noble if we perform them with joy and a servant’s heart. While recovering from my bone marrow transplants, I considered the day a success if I crossed one simple item off my list, such as writing a thank-you note to someone or ordering a gift online. Persevering in such small tasks gave my life purpose and meaning for that day and greatly improved my attitude as I took baby steps toward serving someone else. 

What also strikes me as amazing about Helen Keller’s quote is that she not only thought of ways to serve others, but she rejoiced that others could do what she herself could not! I should be rejoicing that others who love to jog are able to do so, instead of wallowing in self-pity that I do not have the option. I should be rejoicing that others have the energy to do so much for their families and friends, that they are able to live such full lives. I should rejoice for them the way God rejoices over my accomplishments and the things, however small, that I do for Him. Not only is rejoicing in the accomplishments of others the RIGHT thing to do, but it blesses me by infusing more joy into my own life. One of my favorite books is Tommy Newberry’s 40 Days to a Joy-Filled Life, and he states in a chapter about rejoicing in the success of others: If you are secure in God’s love, you know that he has a plan for you, and you are not threatened by others’ talents or successes. Applaud what God is doing through others, because whatever he accomplished in their lives, he can accomplish in yours also….One of the best things we can do to overcome envy or jealousy is to pray for others to be blessed in the way we desire to be blessed.

Dear Father, Help me to shed all feelings of self-pity at what I cannot do. Whenever I think of what I cannot do, remind me of what I am able to accomplish on this day, and help me to rejoice in it. Thank You that I am able to serve my family in small ways, and let me praise You while accomplishing humble tasks. Thank You for how You have blessed those around me with good health, gifts, and talents, and remind me to pray for them every day. I praise You for Your perfect wisdom and for holding me close to You during my trials. Amen.