This week brought out a side of me that I don’t handle well: Uncontrolled emotion. I found myself several times weeping and saying to God, “I think you chose the wrong person here, God. I’m weak. I don’t have the strength to get through this. I hate being a burden. I stumble—I fail—I disappoint. It’s just too much!” And God, in the gentle calmness of his Spirit whispered, “My dear child, this season of life may be difficult at times, and most certainly you will not always embrace my ways. Even so, Jacque, I chose you. Not because you are strong. For if you were already strong, then how would my glory be revealed? Lean into me for strength and continue to tell them. Tell them of the faithfulness of our relationship, always reminding them of the great things I have done.” So once again, I wiped my eyes and leaned into Him for the promised strength. It came, just as He had promised. And the journey continues.
Cancer is not a respecter of persons. It can strip dignity, induce pain and will even try to forcefully separate the weak from the strong. But nothing can separate us from the love of God.
My return appointment couldn’t come soon enough. And within the week we found ourselves in the exam room once again. Without the usual small talk, he came right to the point, “It’s what I suspected. It’s cancer.” That dark, repulsive word that no one wanted to hear, but on that September fall day, it hit me head-on. Stage 2 Squamous Cell Carcinoma was the medical term – a form of skin cancer. At the moment, it didn’t mean anything to me – all I heard was that ugly word, cancer.
Oddly enough, I was in the lowest of the low percentile for this type of cancer. I didn’t smoke, drink, or chew. The doctor explained this type of cancer was predominant in more careless lifestyles and also in men—go figure. Even though the news was a devastating blow, complete peace surrounded me. I had prepared myself beforehand through prayer, along with my intercessors, to absorb the news clearly and to be able to consider all the options with grace. And it was so.
Basically I was given two options with the diagnosis: radiation treatment or surgery to remove the tumor and safe margins, which would include the removal of approximately 1/3 of my tongue. Along with surgery option, a neck dissection would also be necessary removing some lymph nodes to check for spreading cancer cells. That was it. The doctor was blatantly honest. He cautioned that if I chose radiation treatment, the oral cavity was one of the worst areas to treat, wreaking havoc in the mouth. While surgery to remove the tumor was his preferred option, ultimately it was our decision. I argued that we were mid-stream into planning my daughter’s wedding that would be in 6 weeks and wanted to consider waiting until afterwards. He cautioned not waiting; it was cancer and aggressive—time was of the essence. We left his office saying we needed time to pray and talk with our family and would call with our decision soon. I immediately contacted my family and updated my prayer partners of our devastating news. After much prayer and consideration, that night we decided surgery was the best option—the sooner the better. I called to schedule my appointment the next day. Because it would require two surgeons to perform a partial glossectomy and neck dissection, the earliest surgery date available was October 17—a wait of almost three weeks. Waiting was the hardest. It consumed my thoughts and weathered my confidence, but God's unwavering compassion continued to embrace me in the storm.
But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. –Isaiah 40:31
Teach me Lord, to wait on You. I yearn for Your renewed strength. You are my Everything as I wait and lean into You.
To be continued…
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