Monday, February 23, 2009

Trust In Him Who Loves You


When things happen, as they often do, it can affect who we are and shake our foundations. How we respond, and what we cling to in times of trouble, may be remembered by others as who we really are.

Cancer. A simple word that carries so much weight. A word that strikes fear, causes some to tremble, and others to weep. Prefaced by the word malignant, and it intensifies the sadness that immediately descends.

Metastasis. Not the word one hopes to hear.

Radiation. A burning treatment of sorts. An outlet for a favorable prognosis. A means of action to strike the disease.

Chemotherapy. Toxins, if you will. Poisons that sicken and can affect the entire body – nausea, weakness, fatigue - but hopefully destroy the unwanted and uninvited invader.

Faith. Believing in the unseen. Walking down a path which one can not fully make out, but still walking, slowly or quickly, with complete confidence or trepid determination, all the while certain of that which we can not see.

Hope. A word that clings to the infinite, or at least tries to remain. It leans on trust that things will be ok, and it anticipates a happy ending.

Love. A feeling, an emotion, an action. Something which we long for and have the capacity to bestow. A word that has the power to change lives and transform hearts.

Family. That to which we are born into or become. Brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, friends. An exacerbating source or a spring of life. Something we do not choose; something that we can choose to become.

Prayer. Power to change that which is beyond ourselves. Not for just the elite few, but words that can be spoken by anyone. A calling out to God in praise or time of need. Food for the spirit. Water for the soul. In desperation or thankfulness, a supplication on behalf of self or others.

Margie Vagedes. A wife, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, neighbor, friend. A skilled and empathetic nurse throughout the years. A compassionate, caring, cheerful, and beautiful soul. Survivor of breast cancer for two years. A person into which the cancer has resurfaced and spread.

When things happen, as they often do, faith, hope, love, family, and prayer can carry us through, in good times and in bad. I do not always pray for, nor expect miracles when I pray, but that does not mean I do not pray – to lesson the pain, for peace, for healing, for happiness, for time with family, for joy despite the pain. We are one body of brothers and sisters. God is our father, and he cares deeply for us.

Please join me in praying for all people around the world who suffer – that they experience joy despite the pain, hope despite the fear, and love despite the isolation.


Thirty seconds after I finished writing this essay a 63-year old woman named Karen came over and started talking with me. A woman I have never met before. Within a minute or two she revealed that she is a survivor of leukemia, cancer of the tissues and blood. Karen was diagnosed in her early 40’s. She was given a poor prognosis, considered terminal many times over, and spent several years in the hospital. She was in a coma for several months, could not walk unassisted for seven years, and was told by many in the medical field that “there was nothing else that could be done for her.” Yet here she is, age 63, feeling vibrant and new, thankful for everyday of life she has been given. She is a beautiful woman, with an effervescent personality. Karen had no idea I had just finished writing about cancer when she told me her story, but God knew.

1 comment:

DrsMyhre said...

Thanks Scott, beautiful post. Thinking of you often here in Bundi. Hope to see you soon!! Jennifer and Scott