“I cried out to God for help; I cried out to God to hear me. When I was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out untiring hands, and I would not be comforted. You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples” (Psalm 77:1-2, 14 NIV).

When my husband, James, and I married, we knew we wanted to have children someday. Several years later, we decided we were ready. After eight months of hoping and praying and starting to wonder if something may be wrong, I was pregnant. The hope of this child was quickly shattered.

“You performed signs and wonders in Egypt and have continued them to this day, in Israel and among all mankind, and have gained the renown that is still yours” (Jeremiah 32:20 NIV).

What did we do before high fives? I know we’ve probably been shaking hands and giving hugs since the beginning of mankind, but nothing seems to show undeniable, spontaneous celebration like a high five. “WOW! Look what you did!! You’re incredible!”

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John‬ 3:16 NIV‬).

Since cancer showed up in your life, you probably have thought more about death than ever. Whether you are recently diagnosed, undergoing treatments, continuing to survive, or in the care of hospice, death can loom large. The prospect of dying can be distressing, depressing, and scary, but God’s will for you is not to perish but to have eternal life!‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

“So the sisters sent word to Jesus, ‘Lord, the one you love is sick’” (John 11:3 NIV).

The story of Lazarus’ death in the Gospel of John sets us up with the scene of a family dealing with a very sick brother. Just like many of us, the family knew Jesus intimately. They had even entertained Him at their home. And, like many of us, they sent word to Jesus. Look at today’s verse: “So the sisters sent word to Jesus, ‘Lord, the one you love is sick.’” They probably sent word by messenger; we send word to Jesus in prayer.

“I am the only one left…” (1 Kings 19:10 NIV).

Have you ever felt alone in a room full of people? Most people I ask this question of say yes. This might be because the people around you are strangers—but too often, they are not. They could be friends and family. This loneliness can come from a realization that the people around you cannot seem to connect with important parts of your life.

“The Lord God is my strength; He will make my feet like deer’s feet, and He will make me walk on my high hills” (Habakkuk 3:19 NKJV).

It was amazing to see the bighorn sheep in Glacier National Park walking on the side of rocky cliffs. Any human would need ropes, picks and climbing gear to manage the terrain. The sheep had no problem navigating the most treacherous and steep inclines. I had to stand in awe of God’s creation as I took pictures of these majestic creatures. Today’s scripture proclaims that God will make us walk on our high hills. Yes, we might be walking through a valley right now, but God’s promise to be our strength and lift us out of the chasm is a vision that gives me hope.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:9 NIV).

Sarah was thirty-eight years old when she was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. She had three children—her youngest, just two years old. For more than a year, Sarah fought. She patiently endured surgery, sixteen rounds of chemotherapy, and seven weeks of radiation. Through it all, Sarah had an amazing support system behind her. Family and friends from across the country counted down each treatment. Neighbors brought her meals and offered up babysitting and play dates with her children. When she was unable to work, fundraisers helped cushion her expenses. When Sarah went into remission, a huge party was thrown to celebrate.

“Your faithfulness endures to all generations; you have established the earth, and it stands fast” (Psalm 119:90 ESV).

I recall with some amusement once hearing America’s TV psychologist, Dr. Phil McGraw, tell a guest on his show who was somewhat doubtful of his advice, “Don’t worry, you’re not my first rodeo.”

Whenever we need help with any problem or project in life, it’s nice to know that our adviser has been around awhile. Been in business awhile. Successfully resolved a good many such problems before taking on ours. Performed many similar surgeries before.

“When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought, ‘Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it’” (Genesis 28:16 NIV).

Cancer takes you to many places you really don’t want to go: doctors’ offices, MRI and CT machines, pharmacies, and operating rooms. It can lead you to places of deep sorrow, anxiety, and fear, hard, barren, lonely places, and even the valley of the shadow of death. In all these places, God is present.

“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior” (Habakkuk 3:17-18 NIV).

My wife and our two young daughters drove to married student housing at the University of Virginia. We were fortunate to find affordable housing for my year of Clinical Pastoral Training. The scene was stark. The cinder block buildings were painted a bland white. There were no bushes or flowers to be found. My wife commented on the depressing surroundings. I couldn’t disagree. Yet the bleak situation began to slowly change over the next twelve months.

“…the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God” (Ephesians 6:17b NIV).

The most difficult part of writing about my personal battle with cancer is trying to write in the third person. Speaking about cancer in the third person is like reciting scriptures without living them. It is through living the scriptures that the Word of God has power. When I accepted my calling to be a minister, I had my own idea of how to minister. Little did I realize that through my personal battle with cancer, I would learn to cope only by allowing Scripture to take root—germinating and growing in my life. The Lord sustained me by His Word through two bouts with cancer, and I was thankful to be out of the ring.

“About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ (which means ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’)” (Matthew 27:46 NIV)

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus spoke these words while dying for you and me on the Cross of Calvary.

Imagine being there, in Jerusalem, on the hill of Calvary the Friday afternoon Jesus had been nailed to the cross. It’s about three o’clock in the afternoon, and after a three-hour period of darkness, you hear Jesus cry out that the Lord had forsaken Him.

“Yet He Himself bore our sicknesses, and He carried our pains; but we in turn regarded Him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted” (Isaiah 53:4 HCSB).

We may have trouble imagining Jesus even catching a cold, let alone being afflicted with any other sickness or disease of the body. I cannot personally picture the very Son of God ever leaving work in the middle of the day because He didn’t feel well or calling upon His Father in heaven to sign Him out for the day on “sick leave.” Surely, He never had a coughing fit while attending a worship service and had to excuse Himself for a drink of water. It rarely occurs to me that He knew some level of human pain in His fully human body even before His terrible trial, beating, and crucifixion. Surely, He never got sick like we do. Or did He?

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18 NIV).

As I slowly gained consciousness, it seemed that every single cell in my body was screaming with agony. I had just had a large chunk of my plumbing removed; I am a colorectal cancer survivor. As the morphine made its way around my body, the pain would subside. I would fall asleep—until I woke racked with pain again.

“And Jesus said, ‘Who touched Me?’” (Luke 8:45 NKJV)

Have you ever been called by your full name? I knew it was about to get serious when my mother included my middle name. It was something in her tone of voice. Maybe it was the inflection or the volume that gave it away. But there was no mistaking that “things were about to get real.” What might have been a half-hearted request was now of primary importance.