A word I had a hard time facing, in black-and-white today. I already knew it, somewhere in the back of my mind, for awhile now. To see it typed out in Times New Roman in an email was too much for me this morning. So, I reached out, on Facebook, for encouragement and prayer. I received them, in abundance. Once again proving that I have better friends than I could ever have earned.
I am blessed.
Still, the word is there. Looming in the background. Ugly. Scary. Final.
My father’s melanoma is incurable, because it took up residence in his brain.
Several four-letter words come to mind when I think of cancer. Then, when I reached out, another four-letter word blasted the others to smithereens:
My dad may have incurable cancer, but cancer doesn’t know that LOVE NEVER FAILS. Cancer doesn’t know that though it may take my dad’s body; through the Cross, the taking of his body is, in fact, ultimate healing. Cancer doesn’t know that Jesus bought victory over cancer, death, and the grave with his very blood.
Cancer doesn’t know that Love has a face.
His name is Jesus.
And cancer doesn’t know that it cannot isolate us. That we are never alone.
Cancer doesn’t know that it is beaten.
Cancer has obviously never heard of Heaven.
“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him” ~1 Corinthians 2:9 (NIV)
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” ~Revelation 21:4 (NIV)
“Incurable” is in the eye of the beholder. I choose to behold true healing – whether in this life or the next is entirely up to Jehovah Rapha – God my Healer.
Thanks, Erica, for sharing the following song today. I desperately needed the inspiration and comfort. (The lyrics are HERE.) Thank you, Sara, for giving me permission to break stuff if I need to. Not only are you my ass-kicking fairy, you are my verbal hug fairy. Thank you to every one of you who reached out to comfort and encourage me today.
“How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy we have in the presence of our God because of you?” ~1 Thessalonians 3:9 (NIV)
And I mean that.
Incurable. A lie from the pit of hell.
I, here and now, rise up and call my mother “Blessed.” She is my blessing, my friend, my confidante, my dearest of mothers. Her worth is, indeed, far above rubies. And I want the world to know it. Words are not enough, though I have plenty of them, to express my love and admiration for so stalwart a woman. She believes she is weak – but we all know that means that she is, indeed, strong. I love you, Mom.
I am counting this as Day 2 for the Photo Challenge as well – a picture of someone I’ve been closest with the longest. My parents certainly fit the bill. They’ve known me longer than I’ve been earth-side, love me, accept me, and we’ve always been pretty darn close.
I appreciate each of you who are reading this, my friends. Always.