Karen, Diffuse Large B-Cell Lymphoma

No one welcomes a cancer diagnosis. Fear and uncertainty gripped my heart. Suddenly in my seventies, I found myself facing the fight of my life. I had a large 5″ x 7″ mass aggressively growing in my abdomen. I didn’t want the suffering that cancer brings. But as I walked through that deep valley, I began to realize something incredible: pain has a mysterious way of transforming us and is often the exact canvas God uses to reveal his greatest graces.

There were many questions that I asked, such as, “WHY ME?” Then before that question even had time to settle, fear grabbed hold of me and pulled me into the terrifying unknown of “WHAT NOW?” and “WHERE DO I GO FROM HERE?” One of the heaviest burdens of my first diagnosis was how I was going to tell my family and what impact that was going to have on them. I had to trust and lean heavily on God to help me in those early days of my diagnosis. Actually, I had to trust and lean on God through my whole journey. He was my strength, comforter, and healer. I knew that my faith in God, which was the foundation of my life for so many years, was about to be tested and refined in ways I had never imagined.

Navigating a cancer journey involves both physical and emotional trials. Fortunately, I had a wonderful husband who was there with me through every scan, endless doctor appointments, and those long hours of chemo treatments. I really did not want to put that chemo poison in my body. I prayed so hard that I did not have to make that choice. But God had led me to several scriptures that helped me to make the decision to go through with it. “The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer; he enables me to tread on the heights” (Habakkuk 3:10). I realized that God would be with me through every step of the way. I did not have to be brave or strong; I just needed to know that the Sovereign Lord would give me deer’s feet to guide me one sure-footed step at a time.

My family was my refuge throughout this difficult season. I was blessed to have their continuous support along with my church family. God’s grace was present in the skilled, compassionate hands of the doctors and nurses who cared for me. Grace also showed up in each encouraging text, phone call, and prayer from my friends, who lifted my spirit when I could not lift myself. And yes, there were days when the pain just had a way of breaking me beyond my physical control. It brought me to my knees many times. So much so that I started to really pray the word of God over my body and call out my healing even before I was actually healed. I kept a journal which I called “My Healing Journal,” and I wrote down every healing scripture I could find in my Bible. I not only wrote them all down, but I read them and spoke them every day.

Grace isn’t always reserved for the grand miraculous moment, it is woven into the ordinary threads of everyday life if we have the eyes to see it. It is the peace that settles over a quiet room in the middle of a storm. It was for me, in the middle of those chemo treatments. I read my journal and listened to worship music with my headphones on during those long days of treatments at the clinic. It was my lifeline to be able to get into the quiet presence of God instead of watching the constant drip, drip, drip of the chemo bag above my head. It was the quiet confidence that, no matter what tomorrow holds, God was holding me in his hands.

Through the difficult days I worked on a paint by number. I had it specially ordered. It was of the woman with the issue of blood in the Bible. She was ill for 12 years until she finally met Jesus. Her faith was amazing. She believed that if she could just touch the hem of his garment, she would be healed. Her story had such an impact on me that it is the exact paint by number picture that graces my book. It’s called “Brush with Grace,” and I pray it will give hope and inspiration to anyone going through a difficult season. In case you want to look it up, it’s on Amazon.

I would paint a lot through the pain, listening to worship music and scriptures on my phone while doing so. It was like my own little sanctuary, and for a while it made me forget about the cancer and the pain. Creativity has a way of doing that; at least for me, it did.

As you know, chemo treatments have a way of just sucking the life right out of you. By my 5th treatment, I had to have a blood transfusion because my count was so low. In the hospital, as I looked up at the bag of blood dripping down into my veins, I was so grateful that it was not chemo draining me but the blood that was restoring me. God’s grace showed up in a powerful way that day. It was at that moment I knew I was healed. I saw with absolute clarity the parallel of what was happening to me. You see, you cannot have life-giving blood without the pain. Jesus couldn’t give his blood without the agony of the cross. A donor cannot give blood without the piercing of a needle. The pain must come first for the blood to flow. My healing begins and ends with the blood. Without it, we simply cannot survive. I was reminded of the promise, “by His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). Lying there, I began to weep. I wept deeply out of pure gratitude, first for what Jesus did on the cross for me so I could have eternal life, and then for the anonymous donor who selfishly gave of themselves so I could continue living here on this earth. In that sacred space, I KNEW my healing was complete. Just like that woman with the issue of blood, I grabbed hold of that truth.

I was spared the 6th chemo treatment by God’s grace. When I went to my oncologist, I expressed my concerns and wanted to get another PET scan before any further treatments. She was agreeable. So I had the test done, and I finally heard those words that all cancer patients want to hear. YOU ARE IN REMISSION!!

There is a purpose for our pain. Pain in itself is not good but God meets us in those broken, weary moments and slowly weaves them into something beautiful. My journey changed me in so many ways. There was a shifting inward first, deep within my own heart. I was broken to the point of knowing that God was the only one who could fix me. I had a stronger desire for things of God. To trust him more, to be still more, to love more, to listen more, to read more, to act upon my faith more, and to give more.

There was an upward purpose in all my pain that reminded me that even in the hard trials we face, we are created for God’s glory. I was going to survive beautifully, to lift up his name so that others can see his strength in my weakness.

And last, there was the outward purpose, which was why I wrote my book. No one knows what it is like to have cancer unless they have experienced it themselves. But once you survive that valley, you are uniquely equipped with a deep, hard-won empathy. I have gained a complete understanding that allows me to step right into the same dark valley with the next person and offer comfort, hope, and encouragement to those who are facing their own difficult journey.