Jesus’ Arms, Oil Painting, Marcia Carole

Today, sitting patiently for the results of my CAT scan, I knew, in a kind of knowing way one seems to have in these hard places, that the news would not be stellar. My doctor went over the scan of November and then of last week. Yes, the lungs are better, maybe, and the tumor in the breast is slightly smaller, but, essentially the same size. He suggested the chemo would/might have no more significant effect on the tumor. It is time to try the pill he would have liked to have used if my lungs had not been so compromised in the beginning of this journey.

The chemical in the pill may have a better, more destructive effect on the cancer. So, I started the pills today. We, my doctor and I, will note the effect monthly, my hair can grow back, I can see in three to six months if the pill has a better effect than the chemo on shrinking the tumor. I have sobered up, yet again, to the fact that I am a cancer patient with a very serious form of the disease.

After two and one half months of chemo, one hopes to have progressed further, and I was disheartened by the news and began to cry a little with the doctor. “Why are you crying?” he asked softly. “I’m frustrated the tumor is essentially the same size.” (I look over at Alice, and she is trying not to cry. Well, OK, she is crying a bit.) My doctor is hopeful the tumor will be much more impacted by the pill, and he tries to convey this to me without promising anything.

I have no-where to go but into the arms of Jesus – a place, really, I have been all along as His follower. It’s time to more completely settle in with Him in an even deeper way, a way I scarcely understand. I know I need to be more at home with Him than earth. I’m learning what that looks like.

Before my skeptical friends, who don’t quite buy this whole Jesus thing, say, “Aw, you poor thing, you need a crutch right now,” let me tell you as lovingly as I can, Jesus is not my crutch, my drug of choice, my cop out, my sedative, my new-age lavendar dreamscape. He is just not.

Jesus really exists, and He is big and strong; He is really massive, and He proved that by dying on a lousy cross for each of us, so our darkness of heart and separation from God our Father, can be taken care of forever. So, don’t ever diminish Jesus as some lamb leading metro-guy who is without courage, enormous manly strength and pants. Plus, I want you to know that I know, He IS boundless love and compassion. He has shown me this over and over throughout my life. I am in those loving arms. I invite you there as well. Come to Jesus, the lover of your soul.

Weak and wounded sinner
Lost and left to die
O, raise your head, for love is passing by
Come to Jesus
Come to Jesus
Come to Jesus and live!

Now your burden’s lifted
And carried far away
And precious blood has washed away the stain, so
Sing to Jesus
Sing to Jesus
Sing to Jesus and live!  – Chris Rice

Click on the above link for “Come to Jesus.”


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