Fear and Peace?

Fear slammed into my soul Sunday night with these words:  Recurrence of breast cancer is usually more aggressive and more likely to metastasize quickly.

I prefer knowing to not knowing when it comes to medical information, and this came from a reliable source. So, no; I do not regret learning this even though it frightens me.

On my drive to work Monday morning, I gave voice to my fear. Instead of feeling guilty about it, I told God all about it and asked him to help me remember that no matter my feelings—and no matter the outcome—he is always my loving Father. And then I realized that his peace was still with me.

In my office at Good Shepherd, the two things I’m working on are sermon preparation for August 11 and reading in Sailboat Church: Helping Your Church Rethink Its Mission and Practice for our August 6 Session (translated: Board) meeting.

I’ve never preached on 1 Kings 19:1-8 before, so I’ve been reading various commentaries on those verses. In The Communicator’s Commentary: 1-2 Kings, was this sentence: “Of course, being afraid is no sign of weakness; it is the response to fear that reveals character.” My response: Wow!

But God was not done underscoring his message to me yet. In Sailboat Church, there was an entire paragraph in chapter 3 that gob smacked me. I’ll quote most of it and add emphasis in places:

Through this Advocate [the Holy Spirit], Jesus also gives us peace beyond anything the world can give. The peace that the world gives is a fragile thing built on a foundation of favorable circumstances, plentiful resources, success, and good fortune. The peace that the Holy Spirit brings to believers, however, flourishes in the hardscrabble soil of struggle, danger, weakness, and lack. This peace is built on the foundation of trust and hope in God, who never forsakes the believer. . .. Peace comes not because we are strong but because the Holy Spirit enables us to believe that God is strong.

Today, almost a month since I discovered the lump, is my breast biopsy. And then will come more waiting for the lab results and diagnosis. I’m going to remember that even when (or maybe especially when) I’m afraid, God is strong.

 

The Beginning

      “That’s strange,” I thought to myself. “I don’t remember a crease there.”

                A couple weeks later, it occurred to me that the crease could be a warning sign. To my dismay, my fingertips landed on a small bump leading to a firm mass. I called the office and, to my surprise, got a same-hour appointment. I hurried off to get there in time.

                “I think I have a lump,” I told my new ARNP, and asked for a diagnostic mammogram referral. Then came the week of waiting until my appointment.

                Just like last time—eight years ago—I was quite sure. Sure enough that I told my daughter and son as well as my pastor and church about it and asked for their prayers.

                Just like last time, I pondered how this would affect my life. Immediately, the Author of peace was with me, and the prayer I had prayed for months was answered: “Help me love You more.” Even though I knew from experience the kind of physical suffering that is likely ahead, I found myself singing praises to God, so grateful for His Love, so amazed by his glory.

                Then came today, July 16, 2024. I went in to work as usual, though it was only an hour before I needed to head off for my appointment. What could I get done in an hour? That was easy to answer: continue to read the chapters in Ephesians that precede my sermon text for July 28^th. I marveled at the privilege to center my heart and mind on God’s Word as part of my vocation as a commissioned pastor.

                Having already decided to take the rest of the day off no matter what I would learn, I left the office.

                The mammogram was not as painful as I had predicted, and the technician was both kind and professional. I was not surprised when the radiologist wanted a follow-up ultrasound done. Down the hall I went, and my care was transferred to the ultrasound technician. She, too, was easy to talk to and thorough in her job. Then I sat and waited for the consultation with the radiologist. During the short waiting periods between mammogram and ultrasound and then ultrasound and the consultation, I silently praised God and asked for his continued presence no matter what I was about to learn.

                The radiologist asked the technician to bring up the clearest ultrasound image of the “new tissue.” It was strangely shaped, kind of reminding me of a rather square hourglass, except the perimeter was bumpy. I forgot to ask about its size and the BIRADs rating, but he did say a biopsy was the next step. He and the technician were almost apologetic. I was thankful for their expertise.                 

                The last time I had cancer was in 2016, and that is when I also experienced the “peace that passes understanding” during the grueling treatment that took almost a year. Thus, I know that this waiting time for the biopsy and then for the various imaging and tests that will likely follow before treatment is the easiest part. I can still work and still feel like myself. The chemotherapy will make me feel like I am not myself. There will be twinges of nausea and mind-numbing fatigue along with pain that is impossible to describe. I don’t know what the mastectomy will be like; my previous lumpectomy was pretty much a breeze. But probably the surgery will come first this time.

                After my appointment was over, I went out to my car. First, I called my daughter. Then I called my pastor. When I got home, I told my son. As the day continued, I let my brothers, my church congregation, and a couple local friends know by text, phone call, or email that I have cancer again, and I’ll notify my friends who are not on Facebook in the coming days. I still feel peace, though I know harder days are ahead. This diagnosis rocks my world and changes everything about the coming months, but no matter the outcome, God will be my strength.