Last spring, not long after I began chemotherapy for appendix cancer, my mother came to stay and brought me a hand-made prayer quilt sewn by a friend who was part of her church’s quilting group. On it are white threaded knots where a person tied a string as they prayed over the quilt and ultimately, over me and my family. Many of the fabric squares in this quilt have life-giving Bible verses lovingly handwritten on them. I have read through my Bible, heard thousands of sermons laced with scripture, memorized so many verses, hymns and stories through the course of my life that I rarely come across one I don’t recognize. For the first time, a verse from the book of Job jumped off the quilt and right into my heart:
In His hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind (Job 12:10). The wonder and mystery behind this statement. How did I miss this one all these years? We could read the Bible over and over and never be able to capture everything in it. All I can tell you is that I need this verse’s promise right now.
As I have been slowly healing from an unsuccessful HIPEC surgery, my surgeon wanted me to know there was a possibility of a clinical trial to use the same localized chemo medication that I need but in a different way to reduce the cancer in my belly. It seemed like one last lifeline. After a week or two, our hopes were dashed once again. I was not eligible due to a technicality in the (unsuccessful) treatments I have already undergone.
Initially, it felt like a quick punch to my stomach that left me dazed for probably a solid 24 hours, just trying to grapple with this. Right now, every door under the sun has been shut. The one medication I need, that we know will help me…I cannot get. It isn’t even available anywhere in the US except through the HIPEC surgery I can’t get and one clinical trial that I am barred from. Maybe it will be available in 6 months…but I need it today.
In my dazed state, I could not tell you any feelings I actually had about it. I think I am becoming numb to “bad” news. My answer to being asked how I am feeling is simply: I don’t know. If I am really honest, I just feel God’s silence on the matter. I have never been in a hard situation where God didn’t provide a way through. But it seems that I will be sitting in this without relief or rescue. Maybe for now, or maybe for good. Like I said, I don’t know. Yet, I do know God is here, even when I cannot understand any part of this.
But even underneath the “I don’t know” I have found something that has not quite died in the depths of my heart. Something there isn’t shaken, in fact it is nearly inappropriately optimistic in a pretty hopeless situation.
That place deep down in my soul didn’t shatter when I got that last door closed in my face. My heart doesn’t feel heavy, in fact, it feels strangely light. Weird, right?
I am realizing what it might look like, what it might FEEL like, to actually believe what God says and find that I truly buried scripture deep into my heart. That I know for certain when I tell others sitting in hard places that hope isn’t wishing or praying for better circumstances…hope is a person named Jesus. And even in the darkest valley, facing my mortality far sooner than I care to…I realize the only thing that can truly sustain the life force in my body, mind and spirit is God. Things are simplifying in my heart and mind dramatically. Everything else is melting away: those complications, expectations, deadlines, demands of life have become totally irrelevant to me in so many ways.
I won’t lie: I want so much for my life to be preserved a lot longer. And yet I know whether I live 6 more months or 42 more years, it is completely and totally in God’s hands. I know I can trust those hands to do what is best, even if I don’t understand it. Jesus is with me here and that doesn’t change when my body dies. So while my mind is/was very confused, my spirit rests in a strange confidence, encased in the pleasant, peaceful contentment of being here today, and trusting God with tomorrow and whatever it brings.
My very sweet and loving aunt came to visit me yesterday and before leaving, she adamantly prayed with her tender spirit, “God we are asking you to do what YOU want to do.” And then that phrase came again in my daily devotional time this morning…”Allow God to do what God wants to do with your life.” And there is the key, my mind can now shift more easily to where my heart is already. In this season, I recognize that rather than worry about how long I have left, I can step out of God’s way in complete trust and allow my Creator to do what he wants with my life. It is God who breathes life into me and if I still have breath, then how do I keep from singing?
My life flows on in endless song,
above earth’s lamentation.
I hear the sweet, though far-off hymn
that hails a new creation.“How Can I Keep From Singing?” Anonymous
No storm can shake my inmost calm
while to that Rock I’m clinging.
Since Love is lord of heav’n and earth,
how can I keep from singing?
Ruth bears witness 