Over
three months ago I was diagnosed with incurable follicular lymphoma, and I’m
feeling great. I still don’t feel like I
have cancer, and thank God I’ve been able to teach all my courses and carry out
my other responsibilities as a department chair, academic advisor, and academic
program coordinator.
I’m
still not being treated for my slow-growing cancer. Clinical experience shows that if I’m
supposed to live for x years and I’m treated now, then I’ll live for x
years. If I’m not treated now, then I’ll still live for x years. Nope, there’s no way to know what x is. In the words of Dr. Joe Stephenson (my
oncologist), though, “it isn’t a matter of if
it will get worse, it’s a matter of when.” It might be in six months, six years, or even
longer. Nope, there’s no way to predict
this, either. Every three months Joe
will check it: the idea is to catch it
just as it escalates. I’m very glad that
I’m not yet dealing with either chemotherapy or radiation, but from what people
say it won’t be particularly pleasant.
And
yet I’m just fine with all of this. Although
cancer now is and apparently always will be a part of my life, I’m continuing
in my God-given roles as a disciple of Christ, husband, father, church elder,
professor, and friend without stressing out over it all the time. Would you expect to have an incurable cancer
and yet be at peace about it? To just
accept it and get on with life? This is
my new abnormal.
What
is normal, anyway? Normally if a toddler
lets go of an ice cream cone it falls to the ground and the kid starts
crying. To the kid, though, dropping the
cone is abnormal. Hence the crying. Are adults much different? When things don’t go as expected we become angry,
annoyed, anxious, discouraged, embarrassed, envious, fearful, impatient, moody,
perplexed, sad, upset, whatever.
God
clearly states that the road to the new abnormal is paved with obedience:
“Oh that you had paid attention to my commandments!
Then your peace would have been like a river….”
(Isaiah
48:18)
In
the interest of full disclosure I must say that sometimes I still disobey
God. On second thought, I don’t think
I’m actually up to fully disclosing
how disobedient I still am. On third
thought, Jeremiah 17:9 suggests that I
don’t even know how disobedient I am.
So, on fourth thought let me just say that four weeks ago I disobeyed this
clear command:
“Do not be
anxious about anything,
but in
everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be
made known to God.”
(Philippians 4:6)
A
new problem related to my cancer arose suddenly and unexpectedly. I was caught off guard by it and rapidly
became anxious. Discouragement quickly
followed. I needed to listen to what God
says about such things, but my sin was like spiritual earwax that muffled his
voice. I didn’t even bother to ask him
for help. Apparently Elijah didn’t,
either (I Kings 19).
The
next day I realized that people were saying very pertinent things to me, but I
largely glossed over them in my mind. The
following day I finally began to turn back to the Lord. I spent some time reading my Bible and in
prayer. Shortly thereafter God reminded
me of what had appeared to be an insurmountable problem in my life some years
earlier. It dawned on me that it was
directly comparable to my current situation, and then I was shocked that I
hadn’t made the connection. God had solved that
problem in a completely unexpected way. I
realized that the Lord was saying to me, “Brian, don’t you remember how I took
care of you fourteen years ago?” I felt
remorse. Then I repented.
