The Big C Strikes Again

It was just over a year ago that it seemed like cancer diagnosis were being handed out like candy to those around me.  For about a 2 month period, I felt as though I was watching everyone waiting for the next announcement of bad news.

My father-in-law went through treatment for prostate cancer last winter after a scary diagnosis during the summer.  We prayed through the fear of that the cancer had spread.  It had not and he went through treatment and quick recovery.  We rejoiced at his progress and rarely think about it now.

Another dear friend was given her second diagnosis of breast cancer.  She had a double mastectomy, but struggled with the decision to put herself through another round of chemo.  I'm not going to lie, I struggled with that.  It was a blossoming new relationship and I had a tough time with the idea of no treatment.

Just this week, I shared with her how angry I had been during that time.  I remember spending an entire night awake, wrestling with God about it.  I was angry with God for allowing the cancer to come back and I was angry with her.  That one long night, I cried, stomped my feet, got on my knees,  cried some more and at the end of it all accepted God was in control.  He was in control of the things I was angry about and that I couldn't understand.

She did have a change of heart and is now one treatment away from being finished with chemo.  In a few weeks, we will rejoice with her.  We will celebrate her strength and perserverance.  We will thank God for the gift of her survival and her faithfulness through it all.

When I say we, I mean our group of bunco ladies.  A core group of us have been together for two years now.  I love these ladies.  Once a month, we put aside our differences, problems, stress and play a silly dice game.  I treasure those nights and they have given me a social group I wouldn't have developed otherwise.

As we prepare to share in our one friend's victory, another one of our friend's has been given a cancer diagnosis.  

It came completely unexpected.  When I heard she was having emergency surgery for a possible appendix problem, the last thing I expected to hear two days later was that she had colon cancer.  

This is the quiet one of the bunch.  Always faithful to be there whether it is bunco or bible study or church.  She's always the one who is silent in a conversation until there's a place to insert words of wisdom.  She's the one with a dry sense of humor who says the funniest things when you least expect it.  

She is also a busy mom of two wonderful children.  A wife.  A sister.  An aunt.

It is heartbreaking.  She just got her diagnosis late last week.  I don't know what is ahead of her, none of us do yet.  All we know is how much we love her.  We all share the same struggle of getting our heads around what she is going through or will be faced with now.

I have been able to be matter of fact and have kept my emotions in check so far.  But, I know it's coming.  My fist-shaking, crying, angry, wrestling with God moment.  I'll pray and ask why.  I think those are all normal responses to any cancer diagnosis for a friend or family member.  I know at the end of it all, I know the answer will be the same as last year.  God is still in control, even over the things that make me angry and that I don't understand. 

I used to think that a crisis like this weakened my faith.  What I have learned is just the opposite.  I find myself being incredibly thankful for my faith.   I know that I don't have to understand anything besides, God is over it all.  All I can do is pray.  Pray for a miracle.  Pray for comfort.  Pray for understanding.  Pray for healing.  Pray that God would show himself in big and glorious ways in this.

My head and heart know all of this, but my earthly body will still shake my fist and wrestle with God over what I don't understand.