What follows is a testimony of hope in Christ from a mother diagnosed with cancer and her family who loves her. This material was originally presented to an audience at Kishwaukee Bible Church’s annual Ladies’ Tea this spring. The testimony unfolds with each of the speakers presenting different portions of the story.

Speaker: Carol
I like the definition of "hope" that says "to anticipate, usually with pleasure; an expectation; confidence." Real hope must be based on truth. If it isn’t – if it is based on circumstances or something that is going to change – doesn’t it amount to only a false hope? Or a temporary hope? Or even a lie? Hope must be based on truth, and the most reliable source of truth that I know is the Word of God. This is because in the Bible, John says, "Your Word is Truth".

Having made this connection between hope, truth, and the Word (Jn.17:17), I can begin to tell you some of the ways that my thinking about life and hope have been changed in the last two years as a result of the Word.

Two years ago I found out that I had cancer. This diagnosis affected not only me but also my family. At the beginning of those two years, I thought that my biggest need was hope of a cure for my cancer. But I found out that my biggest need was really relief from the fear that came with the realization that my physical life was going to end possibly sooner than I had been expecting. I discovered that I feared many things, the biggest "thing" being death. Someone asked me if I had thought much about heaven. I didn’t have to think very long before I realized that I had not though much about heaven. I knew that God in mercy had forgiven my sin when His Son died to pay the penalty of it, but I really did not spend much time anticipating the life I’ll have in heaven with Him when I die. Hearing the word "cancer" pronounced in relation to ME gave me good cause to connect with my need to think about death and heaven. I remember telling a friend, "I wish I were in a bubble. I wish that this were happening to me only and not to my husband and kids." But I wasn’t in a bubble, and it was happening to my family.

Speaker: Amanda
Whenever anyone asked us how we were doing or what we were learning following Mom’s diagnosis, Dad would reply: "We’re learning to put our trust in the unshakable, the unchangeable. We’re thinking a lot about heaven." I knew that "we" didn’t include me. If I thought about heaven, I had to think about Mom dying, and that was more than I could handle.

Yet I knew I should be thinking about heaven. I knew my focus should be on the unshakable. I knew if Mom died, she’d go to be with the Lord and we could rejoice in that fact. Trouble was, I couldn’t see any joy in it. All I could see and feel was grief, and an overwhelming sense of loss.

While Mom recuperated from surgery, I struggled with my dilemma. As I had been catapulted into the position of "chief cook and bottle washer", most of my meditating was done while washing dishes, sorting laundry, and planting the garden. My problem was resolved one afternoon as I was putting on my boots to work in the garden. A verse from the Psalms had been on my mind: "And in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them" (Psalm 139:16). God has planned the number of days each person will live, and each person will live that number, regardless of what happens. Therefore, Mom would live the full number of days planned for her, cancer or no cancer. Even if she did die of cancer, the cancer wouldn’t have "cut her life short." She would have just finished living the days God had written for her, and cancer would have been the ending that God chose for her "story". Using this insight into the Scripture, the Lord relieved my fears and grief about Mom’s potential death. However, He used a different method to make heaven more palatable to me.

Steve Saint gave testimony at Roni and Charity Bowers’ memorial service following their accidental deaths in Peru, in April 2001. Addressing Cory, the Bowers’ little son, he said the following: "A long time ago when I was just about your size, I was in a meeting just like this" A lot of adults used a word then that I didn’t understand. They used a word that’s called tragedy"But you know, now I’m kind of an old guy, and now when people come to me and they say, ‘Oh, I remember when that tragedy happened so long ago.’ I know, Cory, that they were wrong. You see, my dad,"and four of his really good friends had just been buried out in the jungles, and my mom told me that my dad was never coming home again. My mom wasn’t really sad. So, I asked her, ‘Where did my dad go?’ And she said, ‘He went to live with Jesus.’ And you know, that’s where my mom and dad had told me that we all wanted to go and live. Well, I thought, isn’t that great that Daddy got to go sooner than the rest of us? And you know what? Now when people say, ‘That was a tragedy,’ I know they were wrong."

My initial response to Steve Saint’s comments was this: "Boy, I wish I didn’t understand what the word tragedy meant! This ordeal would be a lot easier if I didn’t understand the tragic element in it." But I knew that was wishful thinking. God, for His sovereign reasons, had allowed this to happen to Mom when I could be fully aware of the situation and the pain.

Steve Saint’s statement, "Well, isn’t that great that Daddy got to go sooner than the rest of us?" changed my thinking about heaven. Unlike Steve Saint, I was dealing with death before the fact, not after. But, similarly, I should be able to say, in the event of my mom’s death, "Well, isn’t it great that Mom got to go sooner than the rest of us."

All of this took more than one day to come together in my mind. But that day as I was putting on my boots, I felt happy -- free from worry and fear. That same day, two people asked me, in earnest, how I was doing, and I was able to answer sincerely, "I’m doing well." The Lord had given me "the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension" (Phil.4:7). He had reminded me of the hope fellow believers have that they will see each other again in heaven.

Speaker: Carol
In the New Testament (2Cor.4&5) our physical bodies are called "tents". Tents do not last long and neither will my body. My body is temporary, and my hope is not in a long life here on earth, but in an eternal life in Heaven. Learning that changed my days, literally. The cancer diagnosis made me realize that I didn’t know how many more days I might have here on earth. It took a little while to adjust to this thought, but the truth of it occurs frequently in the Bible. Mandy has already quoted to you "in Your book all the days of my life were written, before ever they took shape, when as yet there was none of them." The words "All the days of my life" implies both a beginning and an end. In the book of James in the Bible, it says: "What is the nature of your life? You are really but a wisp of vapor – a puff of smoke, a mist – that is visible for a little while and then disappears into thin air." You can’t get much more temporary than that! When I realized this, each day became to me what it really is -- an allotted block of time which was given before I was even born. I can live each of those days confidently HOPING in the God Who gave it to me. And knowing that WHEN I die, my HOPE is Heaven. In my days, given one at a time, I can do whatever "the Lord wills" even if that means enjoying cleaning the shower, or having MY plans rearranged by some unexpected event, or repeating the same chores today that I did yesterday! In the Old Testament, the prophet, Micah, says: "But as for me, I will look to the Lord and confident in Him I will keep watch; I will wait with HOPE and expectancy for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me."

Living one day at a time, knowing that God has already ordered it, is a very relaxing way to live. There isn’t a lot to worry about when you know it is God Who causes events to happen when He wants them to.

Speaker: Amanda
A good example of the Lord’s perfect timing was the fact that Mom was diagnosed a little over a month before I graduated from high school. Up until that point, I still didn’t have an answer for the inevitable senior year question: "What are you doing next year?" I had been praying about this issue, and had had multiple conversations with Mom and Dad regarding the subject, but I still did not have any clear idea of what to do next. My biggest hang-up was whether or not to go to college. Even if I didn’t go to college right away, I wanted to do something. Yes, a year off from the books would be nice, but what would I do? My biggest fear was boredom.

These fears and worries were temporarily shelved during Mom’s surgery and recovery. However, after the initial trauma was over and the dust began to settle, the questions were still there. But, I was beginning to realize that there were also answers. This became even more clear as Mom and Dad started exploring cancer treatment options. Both Mom and Dad were leaning more toward an alternative therapy, as opposed to chemotherapy. However, the alternative therapy called for a very demanding and specialized diet regimen that was guaranteed to absorb all of Mom’s time and energy.

One afternoon in June, the Lord "crystallized" everything in my mind. Mom and Dad had gone to see an oncologist in Wheaton, and my brother and I had decided to give the house a long overdue cleaning while they were gone. I realized, "Mom is going to need help just to accomplish day-to-day tasks. I’m done with school and have no plans at the moment, because the Lord wants me to help her!"

Once again, the Lord was showing me that He knew the plans He had for me, and they were plans to prosper and not to harm me, plans to prosper and not to harm me, plans to give me hope and a future. He had prepared me for this task: He had given me the desire to serve, a desire to remain at home, and an empty calendar. He had also equipped me for this task: I was eighteen, was able to drive, and could handle most of the adult-sized tasks that would be required of me. And then, in His sovereign plan, in His perfect time, He brought Mom’s cancer and my graduation together.

He also showed me that all my fretting during my senior year about what to do next was an exercise in futility. He had plans to give me hope and a future, so that’s where my complete hope and trust should’ve been. Basically all I did during my senior year was knock a few years off my life span worrying.

I’m finding that the words to Steve Green’s song, "The Plan", have been consistently true in my life. "I don’t need to have a plan in hand, I don’t need to have the end in sight. All I need to do is follow You, wherever you lead, and do what you ask me to." I still have to remind myself that "all I need to do is follow You", but even as I learn this, the Lord is still constantly proving to me that He has my life under control.

Speaker: Carol
Mandy told you that God is the One who had her life under His control. The word "control" carries with it the concept of ability – "able-ness" – to initiate the events of our lives. At the same time that I was learning about MY "temporary-ness", I was seeing the contrast to this in God’s "permanency". There was no doubt in my mind that the question of whether I would live or die was an issue that was entirely out of my hands. I was the "created being" subject to what God decided – the length of my life was His call. I had an overwhelming sense of "smallness" in relation to God. Since it is hard to describe the "size"/"big-ness" of God that I felt, I’m going to give you a simple illustration. When the children were very young, on occasions they would misbehave (of course, not very often!). I would correct them saying, "I want your eyes", meaning "I want you to look at me – in the eyes. " Then I would put my fingers under their chin and lift their face toward me so that they were compelled to look at me and give me their full attention. Yes, they were hesitant and stubborn and resistant to doing this. I felt just like they looked when confronted with the authority that God had over my life. I was compelled to focus on him and unable to resist seeing, feeling, and knowing His influence on and over me. He could not be ignored; it could not be done. And I would have resisted if I could have.

Earlier Mandy quoted Steve Saint when he said that "tragedy" was the wrong word to use when describing his father’s death. Using the same reasoning, "good" has to be re-defined when talking about my cancer experience when viewed from God’s perspective. When I use the word "good", I equate it with "easy" or "pleasant". God equates "good" with "something having eternal value" or "something that will cause a course correction for my betterment" or "difficult, but beneficial". Because there is no possibility of there being any other power greater than God, that means my cancer was not accidental. This is where my HOPE comes from.

The fact that God controls my life means that cancer is His best for me. It is His "plan A" for me. It is GOOD. "The Lord is GOOD to those who HOPEFULLY and expectantly wait for Him, to those who seek Him. It is GOOD that one should HOPE and wait quietly for the safety and ease of the Lord. "But, though He causes grief, yet will He be moved to compassion according to the multitude of His loving-kindnesses and tender mercies". His tender compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great and abundant is Your stability and faithfulness. (Lam.3: 25,26,32,22,23).