An Unwelcome Intruder

An Unwelcome Intruder

I don’t know if this cancer diagnosis is the first one your family has faced or simply the latest in a string of bad health news. Lucky me . . . I was the first in our large extended family to find out my DNA had “slipped up” and allowed cancer to “slip in.” At the time, I had plenty of relatives with diabetes and heart problems, but always thought cancer wasn’t something lurking in our genes.

So while some folks might suspect they may get a cancer diagnosis someday, I never did. Instead it seemed as if my cancer just came out of nowhere and struck when I least expected it. I hear many cancer patients say the same thing—some of them are even in their seventies and eighties but have enjoyed such good health that they felt immune to cancer.

And then there are those I meet who already have had cancer knocking at their family’s door too many times—they’ve watched parents, spouses, grandparents, or even their children wage cancer battles and now are discouraged that it’s their “turn.”

I think it’s hard to be the first in your family with cancer, and it’s hard to be the latest one diagnosed. Either way, this disease is a very unwelcome intruder.

I know that’s how my friend Guy felt when he was diagnosed in December 1993 with what his surgeon later would describe as “Stage D” prostate cancer (and yes, this story has a happy ending!).

In 1991, Peg, Guy’s wife of thirty-four years, died from a rare, inoperable cancer, and his middle son, Mike, endured chemo and radiation for testicular cancer in 1992.

Now it was Guy’s turn.

“I didn’t get angry,” he recalls, “but I felt very empty, and I said, ‘Why, Lord, why?’”

Even though Guy had a strong faith in God before his diagnosis, it wasn’t easy for him to face cancer without Peg at his side. But he was about to find out that this unwelcome intruder was no match for the Creator of the universe.

A radical prostatectomy was scheduled for late January 1994, and Guy remembers the anxious moments before he went under the surgeon’s knife.

“Before I went into the OR, they prepped me, and Mike’s minister was up to see me and asked if he could pray with me,” Guy says. “Then they took me out of the room and down the hall.

“Before we got to the [operating room] door, I said, ‘Stop!’” Guy recalls. “The guy pushing me said, ‘What’s wrong?’ but I just told him again to stop.

“I looked up and pointed up and said, ‘Lord, You know me and I know You—do with me what You will.’ Once I said those words, I was so at peace, and I said to the guy who was pushing me, ‘Let’s go!’

“I left my cancer prognosis up to God, and I wasn’t afraid of anything. I had a peace that I can’t really describe.”

I would describe what happened that moment as a close encounter of the divine kind.

As Guy reached out to God, he said a simple prayer of surrender, giving the Master of the universe permission to have His way in Guy’s life. He did what I believe we all need to do: agree to let God simply be God.

Let Him be the unfalteringly faithful God, willing to strengthen us for any and every circumstance.

Let Him be the absolute sovereign God, wise enough to know how and when to answer any and every prayer.

Let Him be the mighty, awesome God that He is, powerful enough to heal us at any and every level—powerful enough to heal my friend Guy—body, mind, and spirit.

Have you ever had a divine encounter with the Lord? If you have, you’re probably already praying for another such special moment. But if you haven’t, you may be a little wary (maybe even a lot wary!). I don’t think you have anything to lose—and you have a great deal to gain—by reaching out to God and saying a simple prayer surrendering your situation to Him. You could pray something like this:

Dear God, You know me and I want to know You more. I surrender this cancer to You and ask You to have Your way in my/my loved one’s life. I pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

P.S. If you want more of the happy ending to Guy’s story, you should know the surgery (which did not remove all the cancer) was followed by radiation and hormone treatments, and seventeen years later Guy, now in his eighties, continues to be entirely cancer-free. He usually can be found spreading cheer as he volunteers helping the “old folks” at a local nursing home.