A Renewed Mind

A week ago today, I was sitting at work performing a rather mundane task when thoughts of the end of my life and the possibility of great suffering overwhelmed me. My eyes filled with tears, and in order to avoid making a scene, I ran to a friend's office, shut the door, and broke down weeping.

I hadn't received any bad news and nothing in my condition had changed. In fact, I was feeling pretty good that day and had had a good weekend. What I had not done, however, was renew my mind earlier in the day when I first began to worry about what my last days, whenever they might be, would bring. It started when I chose to listen to a program on National Public Radio about hospice care, and only worsened as I imagined what would happen if my cancer returned.

Gradually, as the day wore on, I imagined my body deteriorating, my family gathered around me as I took my last breath, and a funeral with lots of mourners. I became discouraged thinking of all the things I hadn't yet accomplished, and became sad as I thought of my friends telling their grandchildren years from now about a woman they had once known. What if they couldn't even remember my name? As my thoughts continued spinning out of control, I began to feel regret for my life's mistakes and eventually to doubt whether the Lord was really good since He was letting this suffering happen to me.

Weeping in my friend's office was only a small sign of the agony I was feeling in my soul. It had started with a thought, just a small little thought, about the end of my life, and ended with me questioning the very character of God. And this is not the only time I have let me thoughts run away so carelessly in the past month. Surgery and radiation and chemotherapy were difficult, but the battle raging in my mind these past few weeks has been almost as tough.

Thankfully, the Lord has been using His word in an important way in my life during this particularly difficult phase. For every thought of despair and desperation, the Lord has a true message of joy and hope. His word doesn't promise me a long, easy life on earth, but it does promise me I'll never be alone. When my heart is filled with fear, Jesus promises peace as the world cannot give. And when the future seems uncertain, God's word reminds me of a certain future with Him in eternity. God's word has also been reminding me that worry and anxiety have no benefit; they add nothing to me life and can only rob me of my joy and peace. Instead, Jesus asks me to tell Him of my worries and to trust Him for my needs.

Choosing to renew my mind with truth is hard work. I have to guard what goes into my mind, be disciplined to spend time in prayer and study, and be on the alert for fleeting thoughts that can turn into hours of worry. Some days, I am just too lazy for such vigilance. But slowly, as the Lord gives me strength and I yield to the truth, my mind is being trained for this battle. So many of you have played such a key role in this struggle, too: reminding me of truth and speaking it lovingly to me when I need it.

"The Truth is, the Word of God is alive and powerful; it is medicine for troubled hearts and peace for plagued minds. It is a lamp for our feet and a light for our path. Whatever our need, whatever our circumstances, the Word of God is sufficient to meet that need." --Nancy Leigh DeMoss, Lies Women Believe and the Truth That Sets Them Free

Pressing Forward

After many prayers, conversations, appointments, and tears, the Lord is beginning to ease my anxiety somewhat. Mostly, He has done this through His word, His truth. And I am beginning to embrace the uncertainty of my life as a gift from Him again. A gift he gives us to refine our faith and cause us to trust him more. He particularly used the end of the third chapter of Philippians in my heart this week, reminding me that I am a citizen of heaven from which I am awaiting Jesus, whose power to presently subject all things to himself will one day speak directly to my body for resurrecton. He is in control now; He is in control then.

I also have been reminded through some good news this week that the Lord is writing this story, not me, and there will continue to be plot twists and suprises until the end, whenever that may be. The CT scan I had earlier in the week showed no signs of cancer, and my Cancer Antigen 125 blood protein marker is down to 6, the lowest it's been and well into the normal range.

When I met with my doctor to discuss these results, he was as positive as he could be. My surgery had been successful to remove all known cancer, I had radiation treatments, he gave me as much chemotherapy as he possibly could because I am young and could handle the toxicity, and I had responded as well as any of his patients had. He acknowledged, of course, that this cancer could come back. But he said we would deal with that if it comes. For now, I need to put these past six months behind me and live my life.

This is easier said than done, as I am sure you can imagine. Right now, I have about a three-month window of the future that I feel I can plan for. And in the sovereignty of God, even that is not guaranteed. But what I am learning over and over through all of this anxiety and fear and good news and hope, is that the Jesus wants me to trust Him. I need to trust Him with my life -- each day, each breath -- and I need to trust Him with my death -- the last day, the last breath. And lean heavily on the promise that through both my life and my death, He is with me.

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: "For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered." No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:35-39

A New Normal

I have finished my last chemotherapy treatment, and I am very happy to be done. More quickly than I had imagined possible, I am feeling better. The nausea is nearly gone, and I am gaining energy each day.

Finishing cancer treatment has been a big milestone, but now that I am finished, I have found myself in another difficult stage. Doing nothing to fight my cancer. Next week, I will have a CAT scan, an exam, and lab tests, and then after that, I will have lab tests every three months. Other than that, I wait.

I have found myself experiencing anxiety and fear similar to the level I had just after my diagnosis. Finishing treatment seems like a green light to any cancer cells that may remain. And my need for information has led me to the internet where I have found grim information about my specific type of cancer -- endometrial papillary serous carcinoma -- that I had not uncovered previously. I also have had a few nights of fitful sleep, awaking with end-of-life thoughts and the need to get my house in order.

How is a person to deal with the big, difficult realities of life and death? More specifically, what should I do as I stare down a diagnosis that continues to be difficult? I was asking these questions to Jesus very specifically the other night and really needed to hear back from Him. When I finally did open his word, I stumbled to Psalm 39 and found David wrestling with similar questions:

"Tell me, what's going on, God?
How long do I have to live?
Give me the bad news!
You've kept me on pretty short rations;
my life is string too short to be saved.
Oh! we're all puffs of air.
Oh! we're all shadows in a campfire.
Oh! we're just spit in the wind.
We make our pile, and then we leave it."
(Psalm 39:4-6 from The Message)

I felt loved in my fear knowing that these kind of doubtful sentiments are expressed in God's word. And my faith was encouraged to remember that there are answers to these kinds of questions. Again, in Psalm 39, David goes on:

"What am I doing in the meantime, Lord?
Hoping, that's what I'm doing—hoping
You'll save me from a rebel life,
save me from the contempt of dunces.
I'll say no more, I'll shut my mouth,
since you, Lord, are behind all this."
(Psalm 39:7-9 from The Message)

This passage took me from despair to hope again, and I will probably need to hear it over and over for the rest of my life. Even in the face of death, there is hope. And no matter how long I live, I want to live well for Jesus.