Part Five: June 6

Psalm Reading

            It’s been probably eight years since I read through the Psalms.  And, if the truth be told, that probably is a good sign.

            You see, there have been a few times in my life in which I could not relate to any Scriptures except for the desperate cries and heartfelt pleas of the Psalms.  I was too shell-shocked and broken to relate to joyful praise.  I came to Psalms out of pure desperation and utter loneliness.

            On May 6, I started reading at Psalm 1 with a different set of eyes.  God has been so loving and gracious to me that joy bubbles up in my spirit as from a deep spring.  With more testimonies than ever before of God’s goodness, I am looking forward to all 150 psalms that express the gamut of human emotion and God-inspired devotion.

            It is June 6 when I come back to the above month-old writing.  That God-sourced joy continues to be my wellspring.  And I’ve learned a few things about “the peace that passes understanding” as well.  When Jesus said he would give us peace, he meant it.  I cannot manufacture such calm myself.  Yet, I’ve learned that I must do my part.  When fear tries to return, I turn to the psalms.  There is something calming about reading God’s Word out loud—it pushes panic away.  I am reminded that I am safe and secure in my Savior’s love.  No matter the outcome of this breast cancer, all will be well because of Jesus.

            Today I read Psalm 36.  There has been no plan, no certain number of chapters to cover; in fact, I thought I would be further along than I am now.  I know that I am still in the good, easy days before surgery scheduling and treatment plans.  Sometimes fear lurks in darkness, but worship restores the Sonlight all around.  Verse five is exactly what I need today: Your love, O Lord, reaches to the heavens, your faithfulness to the skies. The God of the Bible is the One I can trust. 

            The very second I finish writing the previous sentence, the phone rings.  The remaining biopsy results are in, and they are bad news:  triple negative breast cancer.  Yes, I am scared, but the God of the Bible is the One I can trust!

Fear Factor

            I email “Psalm Reading” in for my bi-weekly column in the church newsletter, sit back in my office chair, and shudder as the news sinks in.  I walk into the dining room and deep, heavy sobs shake me.  Five p.m. is just about the time my daughter’s family sits down to supper, but I call anyway, voice broken: “Shawn, please send Dana over.” 

Not two minutes later, Dana walks in through the front door.  I am sitting on the couch, sobbing out my fear and grief.  It is the first time I have wept in sorrow over the cancer. “There is no shame to crying,” I reassure myself in my mind.  I need the release.  I explain what I just found out, and my dear daughter hugs me to her shoulder as the storm passes.

            Dana has more questions than I have answers, but I explain what I know.  No mincing of words here.  I have triple negative cancer, which is the most aggressive grade of breast cancer.  Dr. Smith is referring me to a medical oncologist at Oklahoma Cancer Research Specialists Institute (OCRSI).  The likely course of treatment is chemotherapy first, then surgery.  I’ll get a phone call, probably tomorrow, setting up an appointment with Dr. Moussa.  My June 13^th appointment with Dr. Smith still stands.  Saint Francis Hospital is still working on insurance pre-approval for my MRI.

            I have been hoping for another week before the really hard stuff starts.  This morning was easy:  friend Callie took me to Tulsa for the blood draw for genetic testing.  It ain’t gonna be so easy from now on.  Dana and I talk for a while.  She asks if I want to eat supper with them, and I say no.  I need some more quiet time to process the news.  Instead, I accept her offer to come to their church’s Monday night prayer service.  She prays for me, and I send her on home.

            A few emails follow.  I find the OCRSI website.  I go to my medical insurance page but cannot find OCRSI.  Fortunately, I find Dr. Moussa on the list of network providers.  I click the link for details about him and practically melt with gratitude toward God when I see his sterling credentials.

            I am terrified, though.

Healing Prayer

            Even though organ music and traditional hymns are more my thing, I have learned to appreciate the contemporary music at New Expressions.  Of course, I also love hearing my daughter sing and play guitar. I hope to hold my ten-month-old grandson close to my heart.  He usually is quite the cuddle bug, but not tonight, so I take him back to the nursery to join his siblings.  My son-in-law, who normally leads the service, is back there taking care of the kids until help arrives.

            I am going to sit back and let the music flow over me.  After a short time, Ralph and Beverly, leaders in another small non-denominational church, stop in to share thanks with the little group for their participation in last night’s special service.  They are not staying for the whole evening since Beverly is coming down with a cold, but Ralph asks the group to pray for her, so they do.  Then I see Dana go up to Ralph and say something.  Sure enough, she has asked him to pray for me.

            I go stand next to Dana and the whole group gathers around me.  Ralph prays.  Beverly prays.  Just about everyone in the group takes a turn.  I am surrounded with love and healing prayer.  But most of all, I feel God’s holy presence filling me afresh with peace and joy.  The heaviness of fear evaporates.  I weep quietly, this time in response to God’s unconditional, freeing love.  I know I am safe in God’s hands.