A friend of ours lost their dad yesterday.
A few weeks ago, the man was diagnosed with lung cancer…that had spread. The doctors gave him 3 weeks to live. He didn’t make it that long
I was shocked when I heard the news Monday morning that he had passed. It seemed so sudden.
Having walked through cancer with my mom, my heart felt a little extra heavy as I sorted through the emotion that flooded my mind.
I can still remember sitting in this little room with my dad and the doctor. I can remember hearing the doctor say the words ‘it does not look good’. It was the second surgery within a few weeks and the cancer was not changing. The doctor said many more sentences but I could not even begin to tell you one word he said after that. It wasn’t until the end of the conversation that I began to listen again. He said something that has stuck with me for years now.
He said ‘but we do have Hope.
I knew in that instant that he was not talking about medicines or doctors or facilities. He was talking about Christ.
And that in that moment, I had to choose. Hope or despair. It sure sounds simple right now but in that moment it felt like a war raging in my heart as I grappled with the idea of turning to a God that had allowed us to sit in this room or wallow in pity and anger at the same God who brought us here.
What I did not realize was that I was making a choice that would create a moment that would define me. A moment that would turn my world upside down and bring me not just to my knees but on my face before a God that held me through my questions. And fears. And anger. And hurt. And love. And peace.
And He holds me still. He holds me when those emotions rush back in my mind and heart and tears fill my eyes.
I had months to prepare. I prepared for the joys and heartaches. I walked the corridors of hospitals with uncertantiy of the future. I held the phone and shed so many tears with my family and friends as we simply hung to Hope together. I prepared for what life would look like and took advantage of my mom’s good days. And then slowly, her good days last longer. She was able to be home more than at the hospital. Somehow, after several months of living in the unknown, what seemed impossible came to be reality. And she is still here today.
However, had the day come where I had to say good bye to her, I am sure that I would still be clinging to Hope. Because hope is not really an emotion. It is a choice.
And even know, I cling to Hope. I am not sure that is always at the forefront of my mind anymore but I do know that I feel it is ingrained in my DNA to cling to Him. I don’t know how else to really function.
And it is that Hope that makes me know that whatever the future, I have a God that embraces me.