Snapshots of a Mother’s Cancer Experience — Love Prepares Us for Hardship

When I was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer in 2000, I came face-to-face with my own mortality—and learned some profound lessons that transformed my view of reality. I would never sign up for my cancer experience, but neither would I trade away the treasures mined from it.

Above all, I learned to live with the awareness that we all really do have an impending, inescapable appointment awaiting us. We all have an appointment with God. No matter how busy or distracted we are or how distant that appointment may seem, one telephone call can change everything.

My call came when I was a 40-year-old mother of two preschool children and a happily married wife. The following post is the final installment of a nine-month series that chronicles my journey through diagnosis, surgery, and beyond. (You can find a chronological list of the previous Snapshots here.)

cancer recovery “This journey would be a lot scarier without Jesus,” I told my dear friend Sara. We sat at my dining room table discussing my diagnosis and upcoming cancer surgery as dusk approached. It is by His grace that I didn’t know what awaited me.

Cancer took its toll on me, my family, and my marriage.

In the next two years, I endured a radical hysterectomy, post-surgery complications, and the side-effects of radiation … followed by a second surgery to remove a benign nerve tumor the size of an egg. Severe post-surgery nerve pain sent me on an emotional and relational rollercoaster.

In the aftermath, I felt disappointed. Angry. Sad. At times, I felt deep despair. Chronic pain provided new insight into the verse, “To live is Christ, to die is gain” (Phil. 1:21).

My most frequent (silent) prayer became, “Jesus, take me home, take me home, take me home….”

I wasn’t angry at God.

I understand that we live with the terrible consequences of our prideful desire to possess knowledge of good and evil. Our Perfect Father commanded us not to eat the fruit of that knowledge, but we insisted. We stepped outside of His loving protection, so now we know disease, devastation, and death. I get that.

No. I wasn’t angry with God, but I sure was disappointed in a few people. Especially myself.

Why was I still so selfish, irritable, and impatient?

As I recall, whenever the heroine in a Hollywood movie learns that she has cancer, suddenly everything about her changes. She gains a new sensitivity toward of the needs of everyone around her. All her bad habits immediately disappear. (Who has time for them?) She is kind to everyone around her (except during a few really dramatic scenes that quickly pass and somehow make her more likeable).

My life did not progress according to that script. My own mortality had become startlingly clear to me, yet God did not grant me a sudden transformation. (However, He has continued to grant me a gradual transformation. I am not the person I once was, nor am I the person I will be.)

No matter where I went, there I was.

My awareness was heightened in many areas, but it only made me increasingly aware of my need for a Savior. To save me from myself. From an acute case of self-centeredness. From failure to live up to my own expectations. From harboring unreasonable expectations of others.

My second most frequent prayer during this season became, “Help me, help me, help me, please, Lord Jesus!”

With new depth, I discovered the value and inescapable need for GRACE. Grace extended to us by God. Grace extended to us by others. Grace we extend to others. And grace we extend to ourselves.

Not cheap grace.

Grace that counts the cost, and then forgives the debt.

Writing this Snapshot Memoir helped me begin to untangle my emotions and unpack some powerful lessons.

  • I had unrealistic expectations of my husband. All of us find ourselves treading water at times. Just because I’m sinking doesn’t mean my husband will always have the resources to keep me afloat.
  • It is dangerous to wait “for things to settle down” so I can simply enjoy and play with those I love. Things may never settle down. Wisely, prayerfully, there are times I need to “step away from the vehicle,” even when I can’t turn it off.
  • I have a choice. Feeling isolated in the midst of suffering can make me bitter … or it can sensitize me to the silent suffering of those around me.

Retracing our path, I observed how God had surrounded us with people who faithfully played a part in supplying our needs—writing checks, delivering meals, cleaning our house … comforting, praying, speaking hard truth or sharing tender encouragement.

I can see how His love thoroughly prepared us for this trial.

And, although there are places we must go where no human being can accompany us, Jesus promised that once we open the door and invite Him in, He will never leave nor forsake us.

I’m leaning into that promise.

♥ ♥ ♥

Thanks to all the wonderful folks at Hip Homeschool Moms for letting me share these posts about my cancer experience. If you are in the midst of a trial and wonder whether Jesus can be trusted, I pray you will lean into Him. If you have a story to tell about a time that He carried you, please share it in the comments below.

 

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