The Battle We Don't Choose

Cancer

Up until a year ago, that word had no meaning in my life. It was just a disease that I learned about in my anatomy class. It was something that my neighbor's 85 year old father suffered from. It was something that my friend's great-great aunt died from. It certainly wasn't anything that could affect my life. 

Until I got a phone call that my friend had a tumor in her heart. She is 21 years old. My age.

Until my grandma called me from the hospital saying she had been diagnosed with breast cancer. She died a week later.

Until my dear, sweet mother-in-law became diagnosed. 

Now,

Cancer is a word I've come to hate. 

It's become something that makes my stomach drop and my throat close up when I hear it. It makes me want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head. If cancer had a face, I'd punch it. 

Since my grandma's death I have been piecing myself back together and I'm learning now that pieces are all different. Everything I thought I knew has been challenged and I spent a lot of time questioning myself and my actions. 
What is important?
What matters?
Lately these questions have led me back to my Grandma's last days.Thinking about those moments stops me in tracks. The last week my grandma was alive she was tired and fading but that didn't stop her from smiling and laughing, or from showing us through her actions that every moment is precious. 
There were moments of total peace and happiness. 
Then reality would hit me. Grandma was dying and there was nothing I could do to help her. Disbelief. There is no way this is happening. Crash.
So many emotions. 
When I got the phone call that Sunday morning, "You better come now...", it was all I could do not to fly down the interstate on that 4 hour drive to Clearwater. When I walked into the hospital and hugged my sister she whispered, "Grandma's been waiting for you." 
I watched Grandma as she gave her final "I Love Yous" to all of us.How could she be so strong? 
And then, she was gone. 

Grandma's death has pushed me to accept that one day I will die.It is inevitable. I am not saying that I am not afraid of death, I have embraced that I am healthy. I am alive.
I don't want to sound idealistic and I know that life is not always great. In fact, it really sucks sometimes. Let's face it: we know how difficult life can be. What's worse is when life tests our trust in God. Where do we place our hope in these circumstances? Do our lives reflect that God is our hope?

"For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,
for my hope is from him.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress; I shall not be shaken.
On God rests my salvation and my glory;
my mighty rock, my refuge is God.
Trust in Him at all times, O People;
pour out your heart before him;
God is a refuge for us." Psalm 62:5-8

This is a battle cry. It is a bold profession of a man who, though trudging through trials and attacked by life, still embraces hope. 
David is reminding us that our God of eternal salvation is a God that we can trust in our present reality. 
So..
where does my hope come from? David answers that for me, "God alone..my hope is from him."

And if I ever doubt this, I consider the wonder of the cross:
"With God on our side, how can we lose? If God didn't hesitate to put everything on the line for us, is there anything else He wouldn't gladly and freely do for us?" (Romans 8:31-32). God secured us an eternal stay in heaven by sacrificing his own son. How much more would this mighty God provide for our temporal needs? 

He promised not to leave us and His promises are true.