In the Valley

It’s been a long 6 months for my sister Mary. When a doctor announces to a patient that she has cancer, particularly an aggressive one like pancreatic, her thoughts begin to spin fast while life abruptly slows down. It’s just one of the many oxymorons attached to this horrible disease, and Mary has had her share.

???????????????????????????????Though she’s had a variety of valid reasons to complain, she hasn’t. And though it would have been easy to melt into self-pity, she hasn’t done that either. Instead she’s been a walking, talking example of a woman who has brought pleasure to God by doing exactly what his Word instructs: Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. (1 Thess. 5:16-18)

God said, “That’s my will for you, Mary, especially now.” And she heard… and obeyed.

Actually, that’s his will for all of us, regardless of circumstances, and it’s a good idea if every so often we rate ourselves according to God’s directions. When I asked Mary if she’d like to say something special on tonight’s blog, she jumped right to his 3rd instruction above. She gave thanks.

“Thank the blog readers for their prayers. God has been incredibly faithful to answer them, and it’s such a comfort and encouragement to know I’m not in this battle alone. God is an ever-present help in trouble and holds me by the hand as I walk through this valley of death.

“I feel like I’m being cheered on by friends, family, and your wonderful blog readers who I’ve never met. They’re cheering me on just like that cloud of witnesses we read about in Hebrews.”

Mary has one more chemo infusion to go, after weathering 17 of them. And because she has remained within the confines of God’s will throughout her struggle, her feet have not slipped from his firm place to stand.

Her concluding word tonight was, “To have the kind of support and encouragement I’ve had all along is truly amazing! I am humbled, and so blessed.”

Maybe this could be the way God works all things together for good. Pancreatic cancer? The misery of chemo? Weight loss, nausea, fatigue, fuzzy vision? Mary is still in the “valley,” but her summary statement tonight is, “I am so blessed.”

We can all take a lesson.

I waited patiently for the Lord…. He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. Psalm 40:1-2

Loosening Our Grip

Back in July when I learned my family of 20 might all be in the same place at the same time come September, I did a little happy dance. This would be a treat we rarely get to have, mostly because 6 of us live in England and 6 in Florida.

As the visit approached, we were especially eager since the 9 young cousins were finally old enough to begin engaging in ways that wouldn’t fade by the time they gathered again:

9 cousinsL to R: Skylar (6) holding Isaac (7 months), Nicholas (5) holding Andrew (15 months), Micah (4), Evelyn (4), Thomas (4), Autumn (2), Emerald ( 23 months).

One thing high on my list of priorities was to get a picture of all 20 of us together, and with a camera inside every phone, I figured that wasn’t asking too much. I even talked to Mary about it. “Hey,” she said. “Your family is already on Stina’s list for the wedding photographer, so it’ll be easy!”

My heart soared.

That, however, was when God entered the conversation, prompting me to think along other lines. “I want you to surrender that picture,” he said. “Let go of that goal.”

“Why?” I said. “It’s coming together effortlessly!”

He gave no reason, but my strong sense was that I should follow his instructions. When I shared with Mary she said, “Oh don’t worry. It’ll get done. You’ll see.”

Sometimes God does this kind of thing though. He waits till we really, REALLY want something badly, then asks us to hand it over to him for what appears to be no good reason.

A picture is a small thing compared to many other things (or people) we could long for, but in my heart I really wanted it. Nevertheless, I began talking myself down. “So, what’s the worst thing that will happen if you don’t get the picture? It won’t be the end of the world, will it? Just do what God wants. If it doesn’t happen, at least you will have been prepared.”

And so, after a good deal of mental haranguing, I gave it up…. just as the stomach flu arrived. On the wedding day, Stina’s photographer did line us up for a picture, but it was less than satisfying, since 2 were home sick. But I heard God whisper, “Being prepared made it easier, didn’t it?” As always, he was right.

The next day, Mary and Bervin invited everyone to return to the wedding site for brunch and a baseball game. Even the bride and groom were there, and we were all enjoying the day when someone said, “Hey, Nymans. How ‘bout a family photo, since you’re all here today?”

Our familyAnd isn’t that just like God? When we surrender something we badly want, he often gives it right back to us.

“Nothing…. will ever be able to separate us from the love of God.” (Romans 8:39)

Length of Days

“September Song” is the title of an old tune written for a Broadway show in 1938, and one of its lines says, “It’s a long, long while from May to December, but the days grow short when you reach September.” As sunrises and sunsets go, that’s true.

Stina and EvanBut this September, which is in the record books as of today, my niece Stina got married in the middle of the month. And as God would have it, our whole relation came together for the event. Though September days may be growing shorter, we packed a-lotta-livin’ into each one.

Our family has had lots of weddings, but not everyone has been able to attend each event. This time, though, all 49 of us came together to witness and celebrate Stina and Evan’s marriage. But the other reason we assembled was all about the mother of the bride.

Post-opLast February Mary was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. In March she had the extensive Whipple surgery at Mayo Clinic, ridding herself of a baseball-size tumor as well as parts of her pancreas, intestine, gall bladder, and bile duct-work. The surgery was textbook-perfect, and no other cancer was found in the many scans that followed.

Chemotherapy began in May, and this week she completed the 16th of 18 infusions. She’s on the home stretch, and we are all quick to say the end is in sight, not just the end of chemo but the end of cancer. Yet no doctor will use the beautiful word “cured.” Mary herself hasn’t been disappointed by that, testifying that God has taught her a couple of important things since February: (1) to be grateful for each day she’s given, and (2) to live each one to the fullest.

When a cancer diagnosis is handed to a loved one, the whole relation joins into the misery of adjusting to it. And an overwhelming instinct is to rush toward that cherished one, hurrying into her presence with an urgency that feels like she might disappear any second.

None of us has a guarantee that we’ll live on and on, but part of cancer’s wickedness is to hang a permanent threat above the head of the diagnosed one. And when we love that person dearly, cancer becomes a threat to us all. That, I believe, is one reason every family member worked hard to clear schedules, buy plane tickets, pack for old and young alike, and make it to Stina and Evan’s wedding.

???????????????????????????????The days grow short when you reach September, but God tells us the “length of days” is shortening for all of us, every day of every month, not just in September. Day by day, hour by hour, we’re all on a sliding scale of “time remaining.”

Once we accept that, the whole group of us (along with anyone else in a cancer-touched family) becomes empowered to step out from under the threatening cancer-cloud hanging overhead. And it’s reason enough for 48 of us to learn what Mary has learned by way of her cancer: to be thankful for each day of life we’re given, and to live them all to the fullest.

Cling to the Lord your God, for He is your life and the length of your days. (Deuteronomy 30:20)