Today was so weird. I felt like an outsider, looking in on all these poor, pathetic cancer patients. I was a hundred years younger than the spring chickens, and on some sick level I sort of look/ed at them like they deserve their cancer. Because clearly, once you’re old you don’t deserve to be healthy. I forced myself to empathize and finally noticed they were sitting there pitying me. With “righteous indignation” I thought, “you don’t know I’m not really going through this. I’m going to be healed. I’m not one of you.” Then the nurse came over and switched my nausea medication for the real thing. And suddenly I was one of them.
As surely as I knew this would not happen, I stubbornly waited the entire 3 hours to be rescued. I envisioned this old man in a long white robe and long beard bursting through the doors and announcing there had been a mistake, mysterious paperwork came through that revealed I was actually healthy as a horse. In other scenarios, Dr. Rassam would quietly pull me aside, and with shame try to explain that the original, cancer-free, findings had been the accurate ones. I angelically decided I wouldn’t sue for the emotional distress I’d gone through with the recent nightmare.
I have to say I wasn’t rescued in that way today. My dad got on my case just for hoping for it.
I realize that people who do not have a relationship with God, or who knew me before I did, probably think it’s pretty crazy, or even stupid, for me to put all my trust and hope into Him healing me. Maybe you think my time would be served better trying to find a magical cure for the situation, or ruminating on all the would-be’s, could-be’s, and should-have-been’s. But it’s different once you know Christ, and I can say that because I’ve lived my life both ways. If you knew me before you probably thought I was pretty tough. But that was founded in faith in myself instead of someone infinitely smarter. When I was faced with adversity back then I depended on me to get through it. If I was incapable, I had to find someone to blame. In this case I would have been so angry. So out of sorts when doctors told me there was no hope for me. I would have alternated between a deep depression and seeking vengeance.
Now the world, doctors, and statistics tell me there is no hope for me, but the truth is that there was NEVER any hope for me without God. If you choose not to believe in Him, it doesn’t mean He’s not there. Just that you don’t receive the relief He offers. So I will keep on hoping and trusting in Him, just like I did before cancer. Because He’s always been the same. He knit me in my mother’s womb and knew my life story before I was ever born. I wish I knew the ending to it, but I will trust in Him for a beautiful end that serves its purposes.
To summarize, I will not give up hope of such a rescue, because Romans 15:13 says, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.”.