Nothing prepares you to hear the words (again) that someone you love is about to undergo chemo and radiation.
Our family took a hard hit recently. My oldest step-daughter (24) was diagnosed with a tumor in her brain. It’s an aggressive, inoperable, incurable cancer.
My nephew beat cancer at the age of three. It was 17 years ago, but I still remember the sound of his crying after the bone marrow operation. His puking at night after the chemo. His cute bald head, happy disposition, and how he just had this resiliency that I think only children possess. I also live in wonder if some of the health issues he has now are not related to the chemicals pumped into his body to save him. Cured does not mean unaffected.
But that doesn’t prepare you for this. Nothing does. Nothing prepares you to hear the words (again) that someone you love is about to undergo chemo and radiation. Someone you love has a disease that is vile and destructive. As a parent (a step-parent) there is nothing you can do.
I was driving to see my husband the other day and got thinking about all of this. I tried to reconcile it but realized the questions people throw out at a time like this did not resonate with me.
I don’t doubt God’s goodness or that He is in control. I don’t ask why He “allowed” this to happen. I don’t blame him. I’m not angry.
My faith is not on shifting sand. It does not ebb and flow based on my circumstances. I can cry out, pray for healing, pray for grace and strength for all those involved, but that does not mean I question, am mad or have unbelief.
My God is good all of the time. All of the time my God is good. He will be our compass, our strength, our endurance, our grace. Cancer does not define us. Cancer will not have the last word.
Amanda is a historical fiction writer focused on bringing the past to life and revealing grace through the lives of individuals, making an impact and shaping history.