This is the final installment of a 12-part post, sharing our leukemia journey. If you're just joining us, you can start at Part One here.
The Right Timing
The Right Timing
It has brought me great joy to write out our leukemia
journey. It was a long time coming! Honestly, I’ve known for a while that I
wanted to write about it, but I think it was just still too real, too raw, for me
to be able to write objectively about what happened. Of course, all experience
is subjective, but I think the perspective I developed in waiting til now before writing about it was helpful. I hope you have found it encouraging, and
I hope you’ll pass it along, maybe to someone who is going through something
similar, for their encouragement.
As I write this, my dear leukemia-surviving husband is
suffering with Influenza B, and is quite miserable. Even just a few months ago,
I think this illness would have sent me into a terrified panic attack. I can
imagine all the what-if’s I’d be running through: What if his immune system
can’t handle it? What if he develops pneumonia? What if I come down with it—who
will take care of him? But, much to my joy, I had none of these thoughts. The
Lord has been so faithful in caring for us throughout this entire journey that
my trust in Him has become quite sufficient to keep me calm and unafraid.
Different Wife, Different Life
I am not the same wife I was before my husband got a life-threatening illness. The trial brought on by this deadly, aggressive cancer has taught me a lot about my faith and the God in whom I have placed it; and I thought I had been through some pretty tough stuff already! Surely my battle with chronic pain and all the limitations that come with it would have humbled me, would have deepened my faith and matured me. That is true, but this trial of seeing someone you love—on whom you have depended for most of your adult life—fall victim to an aggressive, deadly disease? Well that is a trial on a “whole ‘notha level,” as they say.
I am not the same wife I was before my husband got a life-threatening illness. The trial brought on by this deadly, aggressive cancer has taught me a lot about my faith and the God in whom I have placed it; and I thought I had been through some pretty tough stuff already! Surely my battle with chronic pain and all the limitations that come with it would have humbled me, would have deepened my faith and matured me. That is true, but this trial of seeing someone you love—on whom you have depended for most of your adult life—fall victim to an aggressive, deadly disease? Well that is a trial on a “whole ‘notha level,” as they say.
John has always been my go-to friend; my buffer in difficult
situations; my safe place to go when life is scary. Experiencing the most
frightening thing in my life so far, without his strong shoulder to lean on,
has taught me much about myself and about God. I’ve learned that in some ways
and seasons, I have made an idol of my husband. In seeking comfort, solace, and
protection in him, I have become unaccustomed to seeking it in God. Of course,
our spouses are to be a source of all
these things, but they should never be the primary
source of any of them. I’ve learned through this leukemia journey that God
is my refuge and strength, my very present help in trouble.
John’s illness gave me the opportunity to learn this
dependence on God through experience. Though the trials in my life had prepared
me to some degree for this one, I don’t think there’s any way we are ever truly
ready for such a challenge. The Lord had given me many opportunities to
learn this dependence on him through previous trials, but I believe that in my
self-sufficiency, I had come through most of them without really disciplining
myself to depend on Him. This time though, there was no choice.
Learning Submission Through Love
I can’t tell you how many nights I sat on my back porch after coming home from the hospital and just cried out to God for his mercy and help. I cried for John’s pain and suffering, and I cried for my loneliness and fear. I cried for the possibility that I might never bring him home, and I cried for the loss of life as we’d known it, even if I did. Those were gut-wrenching nights, exhausting but humbling. In the end they left me softer, more willing to be shaped and molded by my Creator God, and more eager to submit to his loving will.
I can’t tell you how many nights I sat on my back porch after coming home from the hospital and just cried out to God for his mercy and help. I cried for John’s pain and suffering, and I cried for my loneliness and fear. I cried for the possibility that I might never bring him home, and I cried for the loss of life as we’d known it, even if I did. Those were gut-wrenching nights, exhausting but humbling. In the end they left me softer, more willing to be shaped and molded by my Creator God, and more eager to submit to his loving will.
I’ve learned more about submission over this past year and a
half than at any other time in my Christian life. But what’s taught me about
submission wasn’t the practice I got in submitting. It was the overwhelming,
awe-inspiring, all-encompassing love of God. He showed me in countless ways throughout
this awful ordeal how much he loved me. He comforted me in my pain; answered my
husband’s prayers in ways that deepened his faith; provided for my every need, and heard my pitiful cries. But most of all, he came alongside me and walked me
through it. This is the simple, beautiful, perfect love of God: He is near.
I sensed God’s presence with me in ways I had never
experienced before. But the wonderful thing is that this closeness, this
intimacy with the Lord has remained with me as this illness falls further into
the rear view. My God is my own now. The God of the Bible, whom I studied
diligently to know; the God of the counseling room, whose Word I studied to
show myself a competent counselor; the God of the universe, who inspires awe
and wonder every time I open my eyes: That God became my God over the course of these two years. A distant God I'd known intellectually became my sweet Friend and Counselor; my Abba; my Jesus.
What’s Next?
In just a few short months, Lord willing, we will have a final bone marrow biopsy, and the doctors will declare John “cured.” (There’s even a gong he gets to bang, and a certificate involved! I’ll pop back in here then with the update, and possibly a video of said gong-banging!) The lessons I have learned on this journey will stick with me. I know this because those lessons were not self-taught or learned from others. They were seeds of assurance, planted by the One who can guarantee their growth and longevity. I’m not worried that I’ll lose this deep relationship we’ve developed, because I am not the one who sustains it. Jesus is the creator and sustainer of all things, including my relationship with him, and He will hold me fast. Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Wow Suzanne, this is powerful. Thanks so much for sharing your heart and your journey. So glad you’re both doing so well!
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