I will start my story on the 19th July 2011. That’s now just over 2 years ago.
David came home after a long day of scans and meeting with the urologist. It was just after bath time and the kids were playing the fool as usual while getting dressed. David walked into Neena’s bedroom, straight to me, his eyes welling up with tears and his words were: lief, I’m really going to need you in the next few weeks, it’s not good news. My body felt lame as he continued to say: there’s a massive, aggressive malignant tumor on my kidney. I couldn’t hear any more. I broke down in uncontrolled sobs, getting words out like, tell me it’s not true, it can’t be true. What’s going to happen to you, are you going to die? is there something they can do? They can take it out and everything will be fine!
The next few days involved lots and lots of crying. I would break out in tears suddenly at any given moment. Neena would say to me: mommy, why are you crying so much? And I would say: Neena, mommy’s heart is very sore because I am worried about daddy and sometimes I feel afraid. And I continued bravely: But we know that song Neena, that one we sing on your CD from the bible from Psalm 56: “When I am afraid I will trust in you, in God whose word I praise”.
And so the next few days, weeks and months painfully unfolded…
David had experienced some back ache in January 2011, and it lasted for about 3 days. He did what all cyclists would do as he says, he took some drugs. Not to enhance his performance, but to ease the pain. The pain did ease up, but in April he was at the physio trying to sort his back out. An appointment was made with a back specialist, but only for 2 months time. He was training for the Sani2C (a mountain biking race) and had all sorts of reasons why he was experiencing the pain, from wrong geometry of the bike he was using, to his posture at work. At this stage he was experiencing night sweats too and after Sani, when he could bear the pain no longer, he went to our GP who did blood tests, a back scan and took a urine sample and could find nothing untoward. ‘Because of the location of the pain, I’d just like to check out your kidney to make sure’, he said. This is when the tumour was discovered.
David was diagnosed with kidney cancer, a cancer that was unresponsive to chemotherapy or radiation. It had metastasized into his lungs, classifying it as stage 3 cancer. The only option was surgery and from there, to take it one step at a time. The tumour had overtaken David’s right kidney. It had grown into his back muscle, and was intwined with the inferior vena cava, and aorta the main vein and artery to and from the heart. Surgery was life threatening, complicated and long. A whole team of surgeons would need to be gathered, and blood transfusion would be essential as blood loss was likely. The urologist expected it would take about 2 weeks for the necessary specialists to pen the nearest available date.
First miracle – the very next day, the Wednesday, David’s urologist called to say he had managed to gather the team of surgeons for that Saturday 23 July.
From that moment on, our church, friends and family gave real meaning to us of what it meant to be the body of Christ. Meals started arriving the very next day and our church arranged prayer and fasting for the day of David’s surgery.
The Saturday arrived and eventually the moment I had dreaded, saying my good bye to David outside the operating room. I wasn’t ready to hear his words for me: “To live is Christ and die is gain”, from Phil 1:21. He had said them in the few days before too and I knew he meant them. But I was not yet ready to hear them. David was ready to be with Christ, his whole life was devoted to Jesus. I still wanted my husband -to be with me, to love me, to father our precious children. I couldn’t hold back my tears there in that waiting area of the theatre, and told him that he was Christ to me.
I went back to the little waiting room the urology hospital had so kindly made available for us and cried some more with David’s mom and dad. David had written me a letter in his journal which was extremely moving but extremely difficult for me to read, considering the possibility that I made not see him again. My head for those 3 days had only played out 2 scenarios, you see: David makes it thru the op, or David doesn’t. This had led me to horribly painful thoughts, such as planning his funeral, raising 3 children all on my own, how my life would look without him, and even more painful, how my children would deal with losing their daddy? I was grown-up and ok, but how, O how, would their precious little minds and hearts be able to deal with this tragedy? I asked my friends and family to pray with me, that The Lord would hem me in, in front and behind, Psalm 139, that I would take every thought captive .. And that He would keep me in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Him. (Isaiah 26.3).
I tried to fill my mind with Jesus, His peace and His rest. I sang, sang, sang songs of praise and played worship songs and read the many encouraging scriptures and words that friends, close and far, and family were continuously sending me so that my mind would be filled with Him. It was not always easy. My human fear pecked through that perfect peace of Jesus, many many times. I had prayed that The Lord would make this indeed a journey, rather than a short trip, and had to step out and say Lord I am ready for this, but I need you.
A few verses that really encouraged me in this time:
Isaiah 41: 10 “do not fear, for I am with you, do not be dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you, and help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. ” The Lord reminded us of his Right hand often throughout our journey, and many times in scripture, particularly the psalms, we read of his right hand upholding us.
John 16:33 reminded me that in this world I will have trouble, but to take heart, because Jesus has overcome the world.
I was also reminded of Jesus our healer, and that because of his death on the cross, his stripes, we are healed (Isaiah 53) The song by Chris Tomlin, “The name of Jesus”, became our anthem in those days before and during hospital : “the name of Jesus, is a refuge- a shelter from the storm- a help to those who call — the name of Jesus- is a fortress- a saving place to run- a hope unshakable– when we fall, you are the Saviour -when we call- you are the answer- there is power in your name, there is POWER in your name– in the name of Jesus there is power and healing…” I taught the kids some actions to the song and we declared it in the kitchen OFTEN!
A dear friend, whose husband previously had cancer, shared a special song with me, based on Psalm 91, that comforted David and I in those days leading up to his surgery. I’d like to share it with you today.
God reminded me that when I was afraid, I could hide in the shadow of His wing and although it was a reality that I was often afraid, God would be my fortress.
Jo Niemand song (YouTube) – “Ek sal nie bang wees nie” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9p8Lef6IdoM
The staff updated us every hour or so to let us know how my David was doing. The group that had gathered in the little room was my saving grace that day. They laughed, shared rugby scores, rejoiced in the surgery updates and prayed each time we had word that all was going well in theatre.
When the nurse came in to say that they were stitching up and done, my heart flew. David had survived the 7 and a half hour surgery.
Another miracle took place while David was recovering in ICU. Someone we knew had heard David’s parents share in church the Sunday morning after David’s surgery. Our friend had decided to give his life to Christ, because in his words, he would rather ‘live for Christ than die for nothing’. How incredible! I cried in the little hospital coffee shop, saying Lord, if this is what needed to happen for this friend to come to know you, then glory to your name.
David’s recovery in hospital was long and painful at times. One night, while at home with my folks, who had travelled up from Cape Town to help, I received a chilling call from David. He was in agonizing pain and wanted me to come right away. I frantically sent a FaceBook message – by this stage, FB was my very close friend and the quickest way to get hold of everybody at once, to pray. I told him I was on my way. Panic and terror gripped me, the fear of the unknown, what was wrong, why was he in so much pain? And even a fear from nowhere: Why would the Lord bring him thru this miraculous surgery only to take him away again? Sobs and screams racked thru my body as my parents tried to calm me down. David’s colon had gone into a unbearably painful spasm that seemed unexplained at the time. No one could get hold of the doctor, and the nurses were sadly not very helpful or compassionate enough for my liking. That night was filled with prayers, scripture and singing at David’s bedside. David’s sister read Psalm 91, a psalm that had comforted their family many years back, when David was critically ill in icu during his time in the army.
That frightful night friends and family were a real comfort- some even arrived at the hospital to pray with us, to just be there to see if we were alright. What an encouragement to see the body of Christ functioning how it is really meant to function – all these folks were His hands, His feet. The following morning, David shared his little earphone with me and asked me to listen to the song: “The power of the cross” by Chris Tomlin. ….”what could take a dying man, raise him up to life again?”… He saw himself on the one hand, as the dying man, and that only Jesus could raise him up physically again, but he also knew that spiritually, he had been raised to life by being born again. Through tears he asked why he should be counted worthy to suffer along with Christ? He also told me that he knew this would not be the last of his pain.
In the time David was in hospital, a biopsy of the tumour was done. The doctor did his rounds one day and told David that the biopsy had shown that the cancer was not primary kidney cancer, but rather, testicular cancer – a type of cancer that responded well to chemotherapy, and with a good chance of full recovery! Another miracle, praise the Lord.
At school in David’s second week of hospital, Neena’s bible story for the week was David and Goliath. Such an apt story for the place our family found ourselves. We, like David, were fighting this giant, Goliath. And Neena’s teachers had written in her diary that they would be standing together with us, fighting this Goliath too. The army of David, standing behind him and alongside our family had indeed become strong. I was constantly aware of care and support and encouragement from others. Our immediate family were a huge pillar in our lives- my folks came up from Cape Town, Davids folks were there at our beckoned call, siblings came and visited and helped out at various stages, friends offered babysitting, playdates, rides to and from school, we were inundated with meals that were too many for our fridge to handle – a wonderful problem to be stuck with!! And spiritual support, knowing that our sisters and brothers in Christ, from all across the world – many whom we did not even know, were praying for us, lifting us up before the throne of grace and sending us uplifting and encouraging messages and scripture.
To this day, the story of David and Goliath has taken on a new meaning for us. In a few ways – it was David who was fighting the Goliath, the cancer, but it was not him doing it alone, just as in the story, it was indeed impossible for david to defeat Goliath all on his own. He had a mighty God behind him, who gave him the strength he needed and who used men and women, surgeons, talented doctors, compassionate nurses to bring the glory to His name.
There were some nights in those days after David’s surgery, where God showed me incredible comfort through His word. I would turn myself to his word as soon as my mind went haywire with worry, and one night in particular, I wanted to read the beautiful Psalm 139, but I couldn’t get to my bible because we had already armed that part of the house, so I grovelled in David’s bedside table and got out one of his old niv study bibles. I got to verse 13 that read: “for you created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mothers womb, I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” The commentary on this verse explained that ‘inmost being’ referred literally to the kidneys, in the hebrew, the heart and kidneys referred to the the innermost centre of emotions and moral sensitivity – that which God examines and searches. Now, we don’t read things in Gods word by accident, and I was so encouraged that God was speaking directly into my present situation, to the finest detail! I woke up my mom and dad to tell them, I was so excited!
Psalm 121 also comforted me many days when I wondered if I was ready for this road that lay ahead of us.
‘ I lift up my eyes to the hills, where does my help come from, my help comes from The Lord, the maker of heaven and earth, he will not let your foot slip, he who watches over you will not slumber, indeed he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord watches over you, The Lord is your shade at your right hand, the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all harm, he will watch over your life, The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore. ‘
I enjoyed my visits to David in hospital and always took my bible along, ready to share with him some of the verses people had encouraged me with, or verses that were significant to me. I read him Psalm 91 and I especially found the last verses significant …. ‘ He will call upon me and i will answer him, I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honour him; with long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.’
David and I also had many discussions about these last few verses, healing and why was it that God healed some and not others.
But what if “long life” is not how it ends? he would say. It didn’t end like that for Derek, or Brian, (other believing friends we knew that lost their lives) why would it be so for my life? What makes me different? We did not come to finite theological explanations, but what we did know was that God heals in this life, but also in the next, and together came to understand that that verse applied to whether you live OR die in this life — if you know Christ as your personal Saviour, you would enter into life everlasting.
Chemotherapy started 3 weeks after David’s op. Chemo was recommended to be as aggressive as possible so that the tumours in David’s lungs could be destroyed. His first round of chemo was called BEP (bleomycin, etoposide, cisplatin), – it’s incredible how a whole new world of terminology opened up once we entered the world of chemotherapy and cancer. Every time I said those words it always felt like I was talking about someone else. Our new world did not seem quite real to me yet.
BEP was found to have a 95 percent success rate with testicular cancer cases. How we clung onto these stats we heard! The oncologist had also said, had the surgeon known it was testicular cancer (as opposed to kidney cancer) he would most likely not have removed so much of the tumour, because the chemo would’ve eradicated it anyway.
The doctor had told us that the worst side effects would be hair loss nausea and fatigue. Perhaps this was the short, extremely simplified version, because I think David experienced everything from aching joints, fiery burning chest pains, pins and needles in his hands and feet, diarrhea, loss of appetite and after awhile we simply stopped calling the chemo nurse to ask if this or that was normal, because we would almost always hear that it was. We had to keep on reminding ourselves that this “sweet poison”, as we called it, was destroying the cancer and not only David’s body.
After losing 12 kgs (and he was already quite a lean machine), losing all his hair, and sporting his shark-bite-type scar over his abdomen, he was a tad scary sight to some!
The dark days of chemotherapy were tough on David’s body. There were many days he did not have the energy to read or even watch TV and he struggled to shuffle from the bed to the couch. He ended up in hospital for a week with neutroponic fever – a fever caused from a dangerously low white blood cell count in the body, where the body is unable to fight infection for itself. Any infection entering the body at this stage, could be fatal. The doctor had told us to call him directly the moment David’s fever reached 38 degrees.
Through David’s chemotherapy, we once again experienced a tremendous amount of support from our family, friends, David’s work colleagues at SAB and Neena’s school. Being a part of a loving community at school made the journey more bearable. Knowing that teachers and moms really cared and prayed for us was incredible. Gods hand of provision was also evident in this area, as I had just started giving speech therapy part time at Neena’s school. The staff was not only understanding, they also prayed for our family and the principal called and offered support in whatever way he could. Neena’s teacher also arranged meals with the moms in her class, and the principal stopped me in the corridor more than once to ask me how I was really doing and prayed with me.
David went for a scan end of November which showed no more cancer – and just 2 empty holes where the tumours in the lungs used to be. But a post-operative complication, a cyst had formed in the cavity where the right kidney had been, and should it burst, the consequences were dire. There was a half hearted joy at this news as we were grateful for no more cancer but didn’t quite know what the cyst meant. I felt the devil was stealing my joy a bit with this unexpected post-operative complication, but we still praised the Lord for answered prayers and healing from the cancer. More painful days in hospital followed for the cyst to be drained. My poor tough husband. But eventually it was, and David started to return slowly but surely back to normal life, climbing out of the valley, one step at a time.
It was during the return to normal life that I started dealing with different emotions that somewhat surprised me. Seeing David become stronger, healthy and more independent meant to me that I was not really as vital in his life any longer. The support which had been so intense, the interest in our lives that I had become so thankful for and accustomed to, seemed to wane and strangely, I fell into a bit of a slump. I could not understand this? Isn’t this what we had prayed for? That we would see healing? That the Lord would raise us up once again? And then slowly, I got out of my feelings of a type of reversed “mourning” … And came to learn a little later, that these feelings are normal after the type of trauma that we had gone through…
And then… At the end of January 2012, David woke up suddenly with intense pain and nausea. Fear gripped my heart as we headed back to the urologist and after scans and tests, it was found that the cancer was back.
When I told Neena the news, she immediately asked “mommy why is the cancer back?”And I said “Neena, I don’t know why the cancer’s back. The doctor doesn’t even know why.” She replied, “but mommy, Jesus knows, hey?” …”Yes Neena, Jesus knows.”
We were not expecting this big blow and a little while after we had seen the oncologist I remember David saying to me: ‘but liefie, if the Lord needs to refine me, I’m ready’. My response was, ‘but surely you’ve been refined enough now, already!!’ That night, my husband wept and wept in bed, sharing how incredibly hard this was for him and that he just wanted to see his kids grow up. I think one of the hardest things for me through David’s cancer was to see his tears. David is fairly stable with his emotions and it takes quite a lot to make him cry. So every time he would cry, I would too. We became quite used to crying actually. Even now, it doesn’t take much to turn on the tears. Simple adverts are often the source of our tears nowadays!!
Different chemo drugs were used this time as the cancer cells were resistant to the previous concoction. His lone kidney was carefully monitored, since this particular chemo was potentially harmful to the kidneys. We could see the potency of the chemo when it burnt through the thicker-than-normal intra-venous lines during treatment. Just testimony to the fact of how tough the Lord made our bodies – that David’s veins could handle this “poison”. David was to be reduced to flesh and bones once again, and as I sat with him in the hospital room, about to start the onslaught of the chemo round 2, or second line treatment, as they call it, David and I read more encouraging scripture together that we had received from friends and family and that the Lord had shown us. One friend shared Psalm 70 with us on this day: a psalm of Asaph who was wrestling with God through his understanding of why the wicked in this world prosper and seem to be living it up. They didn’t deserve God’s kindness, and Asaph didn’t understand why he, serving God, living righteously, was plagued with hardships. Then he slowly realised the final destiny of those who do not know God. He acknowledged the truth that YET, God is always with Him, that He is holding him up with his right hand. ” My heart and my flesh, many times they fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
We continued to pass through the waters of chemotherapy, again experiencing comfort and really understanding the meaning of Psalm 23. The valley of the shadow of death was a stark reality but we knew that He was with us, His rod and staff comforted us. With David in hospital once again with neutroponic fever, He reminded us with Isaiah 43 that “although the waters seemed to rise up all around us, they would not overtake us.” He reminded me of His promise from Joshua 1, that He would always be with me. Sometimes I rather wanted to hear: Samantha, I’ll take all of this away and all of this will be fine, but nowhere does He promise us an even, easy road– He DOES however promise that He will be WITH us.
During this time, around our birthdays in April, David also developed Bell’s Palsy, a viral infection occurring when the immune system is particularly low. He also had experienced a rare type of bilateral Bell’s Palsy, where both sides of the face are paralyzed. He showed zero facial expression and struggled to talk. He couldn’t close his eyes at night and I had to tape his eyelids closed. Thankfully the Lord had provided us still with a sense of humour, and we had some fun asking David to please laugh at our jokes, or ‘why don’t we play a round of poker?’… I’ll never forget the night we went to CTFM for their sushi halfprice special. I had tried to convince David that we really didn’t need to go out, we could just celebrate at home, but he was really fond of sushi and super keen on getting out a bit I suppose, especially since it was our birthdays.
That night we changed seats about 3 times to try and find a table where the lights did not bother him. He struggled through his sushi platter trying to hold his lips closed with his fingers so that his sushi could be eaten and close his lips around the straw so that the drink did not spill all over. The enjoyment of the evening was short lived though and we headed home after our shortest visit at a restaurant yet! I realised that night, that even in his sickly state, David was thinking of me, and so wanted to treat me too.
With the bilateral paralysis, the doctor feared that the cancer had spread to his brain and the day full of scans to check for this was again riddled with thoughts of ‘what if?’ But the Lord brought a peace that day too. 3 people brought Psalm 23 to our attention once again. It was also the psalm that Neena was learning for her memory verse in class that week. And after all the scans it was confirmed that David was one of the rare few who experience BILATERAL Bell’s Palsy. Also one of the 5 percent whose cancer did not respond to the BEP treatment of chemo. Also one of 11% whose testicular cancer was ‘extra-gonadal’ I always knew he was one-of a kind. Praise the Lord that Bells Palsy is all it was. We were grateful .
The doctor was also able to tell us then that it seemed the chemo was doing what it was meant to do. He later told us, that at the time the cancer returned, David’s situation was extremely dire, especially since it had come back so quickly after such an aggressive onslaught of chemo.
Towards the end of his 2nd line treatment, David and I had the privilege of enjoying a little weekend trip to the Kruger Park . I remember sitting with David on a little bench next to the beautiful Sabi river, enjoying the birds, the quiet, the beauty. I was reading a book called effective parenting by chip Ingram (I didn’t always want to be reading books on cancer and dealing with difficulties) and was reading out aloud to David. It’s funny how God speaks in whatever we may be doing, even when we don’t expect it. The section was about a dad helping his son, who had just lost a dear young friend to cancer. I read: “…in my brokenness I said “son, i don’t understand everything, but I know God is good. I know God loves John and He is sovereign. We live in a fallen world, and sometimes bad things happen to good people and God allows it. Sometimes God fulfills His purposes in a person in 85 years and sometimes He accomplishes them in only 25. And we talked about how hard this was to swallow and what a mystery Gods purposes can be sometimes. “…. I couldn’t read any further without crying and thinking about us.
I walked with David into the doctors rooms after the follow up procedural PET scan with much trepidation, but saying to my heart as loud as it could hear: Lord, with your help, we can get through the next phase. We had together really believed with all our hearts that David was healed. People had prayed for him, he had been anointed with oil and a friend with a ministry of healing had prayed for him too. So, of course, he must now be healed!!!
As we sat down, Dr Cohen started with “yes, David and Samantha, we’ve made good progress… ” He didn’t need to say anymore. My heart sank and everything faded into a bit of a blur as I realized this was still not the end of the chemo road for us. As I listened to him I stared out of the window and saw a little sparrow hopping about on the cement ground outside. It immediately reminded me of a picture someone had sent to me that week before David went in for his surgery. The picture she had drawn for me was of a little sparrow. This friend reminded me that God takes good care of these little sparrows – how much more then would He care for me, for us, who are so much more precious to him? – Matthew chapter 5’s reminder that God doesn’t want us to worry. Many , many days, David would remind me not to worry or be anxious, but just to pray. “Do not be anxious about anything, but, in everything, with prayer and thanksgiving, give your requests to God. And the peace of God that transcends ALL understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” Phil 4.6. “Don’t worry, liefie, just pray” he would say. And through this, David became known to me as the fighting “warrior” and I would be the fearful “worrier”(although trying not to be).
So, round three of our chemo-adventures was chemotherapy, together with a stem cell transplant. A family meeting was to be held for us to be informed of what we were to expect. My parents and David’s parents listened with us intently as we heard all about what was to be the worst of the worst side effects that David would experience. I couldn’t imagine for things to be much worse than the Round 2 or 2nd line chemo as they called, but anyway, together with the Lord we could do this….
Round 3 involved yet, again, aggressive chemo, but this time, instead of giving “so much” chemo, they would increase the dose to “SO much” as the Dr showed. David’s immune system was to be brought down to almost zero. Then, they would rescue David with his own stem cells, bringing the body back to life. His stem cells were to be harvested in a similar way to donating blood, just with a very fancy machine.
He was to be in an isolation ward to avoid the risk of infection and germs from the outside world and each time we were to visit, we went thru the “barrier nursing” routine that was required – wearing mask, apron and disinfecting our hands. No children were allowed during this time.
Chemo was administered for the 1st 3 days and his kidneys were carefully monitored since the chemo could have a detrimental effect once again, on his lonesome kidney. The kidney survived the onslaught of the potent chemo. When David’s immune system (white blood cells) was at zero, well, at 0.01, hefty antibiotics were administered to try and keep his body free of infections. David received his own stem cells in a stem cell transplant on day 5 of his stay in hospital. What an incredible procedure to witness. In simple terms, these minute stem cells are the cells that produce all the other blood cells in the body. They slowly find their way back into the bone marrow and start the critical job of producing white cells, red cells and platelets. Before the stem cells properly started doing the job on their own, David required several units of blood and several units of platelets. Each day I visited, I braced myself to expect a man, barely alive, unable to do more than nod his head at hello… But these days just never came. In fact, of all the bouts of chemo that David had received, this most aggressive onslaught seemed to have the least severe side effects! They were not absent, by any means, but the dangerously low figures on his blood results against how he looked and was feeling each day, did not match up. How was this possible? Another miracle, we believe. The Lord indeed carried us through these days. He gave us grace for each day, just one day at a time. Psalm 20 on David’s wall often reminded me that ‘Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we will trust in the name of the Lord our God.’
The climb out of this valley was indeed a slow and steady one. Each day where the levels would rise by 0.1 was a little victory to be celebrated. Once David’s stem cells started to graft, which seemed like a “it’s-taking-forever-process”, it was simply a day or two and then he was home after the marathon 24 days in hospital.
David started his journey back to life on a slow jog, but by the time his return to work came along, his half days at the office quickly turned into 3pm, then 4pm. And before I knew it David was working long, normal days at the office again. I would’ve wanted to hold him back a little but I knew that for him, to simply be back at work again, gave him a sense of purpose, a great reason to wake up each day, knowing that just a few months back, he didn’t think he would ever even see his colleagues again. I must say here too, that David’s work was incredibly supportive and compassionate. They told him to take as long as was needed to recover. What a blessing to have such an understanding position from them. He has had so many opportunities to share his story, and to share what the Lord has done in his life through this remarkable road he has travelled thus far.
The October 2012 scan after David’s stem cell treatment was inconclusive. An active lymph gland on the chest cavity was still visible. Our Dr was not keen for more treatment due to the negative long term effects of chemo on the body (after all, the amount of chemo David had received in a year, they would normally administer to one person over a seven year period). He said if the same gland came up on the next scan we could consider surgery or radiation, but his gut feel was to hang back on the treatment and review the situation in 3 months again. He was positive about the progress and once again reminded us that just a few months back, things were looking rather bleak for David. So we were grateful for the progress, but we could not quite yet post that resounding good news on FB or give a yes/no answer to our friends and family waiting in anticipation for the results.
That December came around with David experiencing aches and pains, particularly in his chest. With David’s history, we started fearing that the lymph node was growing and all sorts of fears were held in the recesses of our minds over Christmas time.
In the days leading up to David’s scan in January this year, I had to bring my fears to the feet of Jesus. Experiencing a positive cancer scan 3 times over, some would ask, surely samantha you asked: but why me Lord? These tough times did not really make me ask why, but rather made me incredibly sad, and made it more and more difficult to really, really trust that the Lord could indeed heal David.
That morning of the scan as I had my quiet time with the Lord, I read Psalm 92 – it was the next psalm in my study through the psalms for that day. I read verse 12-14 which says this: “the righteous flourish like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the Lord, they flourish in the courts of our God. They still bear fruit in old age, they are ever full of sap and green to declare that the Lord is upright, He is my Rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him”
Wow! I said O Lord, wouldn’t it be great if we could declare this truth today? If it’s not to be, I still know that you are good and that you are by my side, but Lord, O wouldn’t it be great? In my humanness once again, I wondered what would’ve happened if I had read Psalm 91 that morning? or Psalm 23? But God knows me and it was NOT a coincidence that I read that psalm on that day. If God had brought me to a different psalm, He would’ve used it in a different way. But that day, at that hour, He brought me to Psalm 92 and it was a psalm of hope for me!!!
Once again, we walked into the oncologist’s office and I said Lord, I am ready to hear whatever it may be we hear today. Graham eventually got to the part where he told us the good news that the scan was unchanged and that no new growths or tumours were found on the scan, and that the existing tumour in the chest was most likely ‘dying off’. As I walked out of the door past the friendly ladies at reception at Little Company of Mary, I could really, really smile back. I felt physically different that day, especially my shoulders.
The next day in the car, I played Matt Redman’s 10 000 Reasons, full blast! That 1st verse I sang from the depths of my being: ‘the sun comes up it’s a new day dawning, it’s time to sing your song again, whatever may pass and whatever lies before me, let me singing when the evening comes’. The Lord was faithful and had conquered my fears.
Returning for a checkup in April, David went on his own and continuing my study in psalms, I arrived at Psalm 119. Its a long psalm as you know and the portion I read that day started like this, from verse 49: “remember your word to your servant, in which you have made me hope. This is my comfort in my affliction, that your promise gives me life!” The Lord was speaking to my heart and reminding it of where I had been three months back. And the results? The scan was once again unchanged. No new growths.
My FB post that day read:
For all our prayer warriors and friends: the CT scan today showed nothing different compared to the previous scan. No new growths. We have thankful hearts today!
Please take a moment to just reflect with me on a few pictures from our story of David’s Goliath… And then I’ll continue with some application. 
I cannot speak about my story without letting you know how it has changed me. I’ll share with you a few ways it has….
1. It has taught me to trust, really trust in Jesus. We all know as Christians we must trust in the Lord, but it was not until i was brought to that place where i didn’t know what tomorrow held, where i was actually scared of what tomorrow may hold, that I really really needed to trust Him. And even if I fear it may not turn out the way I hope, am I prepared to trust Him still? As Shadrach, Meshach and Abednago said, I believe that God is able to save us from the fiery furnace, EVEN IF HE DOESN’T, we will still be obedient to Him. Those are big questions that can turn people away from the Lord. For me, it has drawn me closer to Him. I desire to spend time in his Word, and I want him to change me to become more and more like Him. My story hasn’t given me all the answers to life’s troubles, but it’s drawn me closer to the one who IS the answer. Even though I may not like what I’m going thru, I know Jesus is King. I love the song Michael Card sings about faith: “to hear with my heart, to see with my soul; to be guided by a hand I cannot hold; to trust in a way that I cannot see; that’s what faith must be”
2. It has taught me to be real with people. I wasn’t always ok, and that was ok. I learned that it was ok to tell people I was sad, or scared, or That i didnt know how I was feeling. Sometimes I didn’t want to talk, sometimes I did, sometimes I was just irritable and my poor family bore the brunt of that at times…and I appreciated those who just let me be. Authentic Christianity is just that- being real. We can learn from each other, support each other and pray for each other in this way.
3. It has taught me, as any near death experience does, to consider what is really important and what is not. That life is, that family is, that our relationship with Jesus is…it has reminded me to live in the moment. So many times I have been in the moment worrying and wondering if this would last, if this would be my last visit with David, if this would be our last time having a holiday together. Just BE in the moment – do not let the cares of tomorrow hold you down. This was often difficult for me to do.
4. It has taught me to hold loosely onto this life. This earth is not our home. Remember we are living for eternity, we are just passing thru. I often find myself clinging onto this life, because it is what i know -my husband, my kids, my home, my family, my friends. But the Lord asks us to hold loosely onto these things, to realize that they are not ours to keep. And because they are not ours to keep, we need to invest the RIGHT things and lasting things into their lives and to make the most of the time that we have them entrusted to us.
5. It has taught me how to deal with others who go thru traumatic times… Each person is different, but perhaps it would be helpful to know what was helpful to me during the tough days:
* In those first days it is helpful and meaningful if people simply listen to my story. I’ve realised anew, the value of simply listening. Don’t be too quick to share similar sad stories about your friend’s mom or colleague or aunt’s brother-in-law. There’ll be another right time to share those stories. Be quick to share the GOOD stories if you hear about them. I loved hearing good stories! Share hope. Romans 12:12 reminds us to be ‘joyful in hope, patient in tribulation and constant in prayer.’
* Don’t be shy to ask how I’m doing. If you don’t know what to say or even what to ask, a hug or a “I’m praying for you” is good too.
There were many people who were worried about asking because they thought everyone would be asking, but I was seldom bombarded with questions.
* There is nothing that comforts like the Word. Scripture comforts like nothing else, and if you don’t know what bible verse to send, to simply say that you are praying, means so, so much. Psalm 119:50 tells us: ‘this is my comfort in my affliction, Your Word has revived me’. God’s word indeed revived me many times and even now, my desire is to be revived by his word each day.
* Meals are a winner and a blessing, always. If I won’t use it today, I’ll use it tomorrow and if there’s not enough space in my freezer, which there often wasn’t, I will find another freezer to keep it in. Disposable containers are best. And if I want to be really honest, but I’ll say this quietly, a non-mince and pasta meal is the best. Don’t get me wrong, I was grateful for every meal we had, but after a little while the kids would say, ‘Sjoe, mom, it’s pasta and mince again hey?’ Now I can just see a few ladies racking their brains thinking was that me? Above all else, I was grateful!
* Offering your help anytime, anywhere, is wonderful. I know that if you are available and able you will help, but it’s so much easier for me when you say I have Tuesday afternoon open, can I pick up all the kids for the afternoon and drop them off after supper? Being specific in an offer makes it so easy to accept.
6. If you are going thru a tough time, try to keep track and write down or blog or journal how the Lord has spoken to you or what others have said to lift you up. If you have kids, they will be greatly encouraged later in their lives if they are young now, to see for real, how God worked in your lives. Especially little details, like things the kids say, that we so easily forget. I remember coming back from the second scan that was still not clear, and Neena came running out of the house: ‘So is the Cancer gone, mommy?’ When I told her in short that we don’t quite know yet, she said ‘ok’, paused and then said, ‘Ben let’s go play!’ Life moves on, don’t put your life on hold, live it in abundance, and as one friend posted on her profile recently – Neena reminded us that until God opens the next door, we must dance in the hallway!
7. Our walk has taught me much about suffering. Having been through this trial, I am not any more qualified to explain, motivate or give theological reasons for why we encounter suffering in our lives. But I am able to share with you some of the things I have learnt about suffering– and the Bible has loads to say about it!
Suffering gives Jesus a chance to take over. 2 Corinthians 12.9-10 “My grace is sufficient for you for my power is perfected in weakness. … I am content with weaknesses, insults, distresses, persecutions, and difficulties for Christ’s sake, for when I am weak, then I am strong.” If we can manage everything on our own, then how will the Lord ever have a chance to work in our lives?
If Jesus suffered, why should I think I am are exempt from tough times? Many people said, but David is such a good man, or your family is so faithful to The Lord, why do you have to go thru this? 1 Peter 1:7 “you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” SO, often, trials reveal Jesus – we don’t want others to stop and look at brave courageous David, or the brave courageous Samantha, we want them to look past us and see : Oh, it was Jesus who brought them through this…
Suffering draws me closer to Christ. It is the time when I cry out to the Lord, draw from His word because I need it to survive each day. It has made me realize that I cannot survive without the Word in my life. I have a deeper desire to know Christ more, to know his Word more, because I know if I study it, I study His character, and it makes me more Iike Him.
Suffering enables other believers to step up and be the body of Christ to those who are suffering. How sad if we have to go thru these times on our own. And if things were honky dory all the time, when would we ever need each other? We knew that we had people not just sending us good thoughts, but praying, fasting and interceding for us, caring in such practical ways.
Suffering has helped me to identify with the suffering of others. You must understand that before this traumatic time, our road was pretty smooth. David and I have great families, we all get along well, David has a good job … And then Sarah-Jayne, our youngest, had to undergo an emergency op from a life-threatening condition called intussusception when she was 5 months old that had us in a panic. I had thought that that experience was our time of suffering and trauma. But this cancer gave another new meaning to what it meant to go through a trial. My pretty picture of a happy family with no big issues was slowly fading away before me.
Somehow, God uses this picture of brokenness… and it has somehow opened a way for others to approach us about trials, and we’ve had the privilege to pray with and speak to many others.
In James 1:2-4 it says “Count it pure joy brothers when you encounter trials of many kind. Knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. and let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect (mature, developed fully ) and complete, lacking in nothing”
Joy? Now how can that make sense? How can there possibly be joy in the midst of trials? This does not mean that when a bad time comes around I jump and rejoice and say all is fine and good and dandy. No, joy is the deep sense of ‘knowing’, as Stormie O Martian puts it: ‘It’s looking into the face of Jesus and knowing He’s all I ever need.’ It’s knowing that Jesus is THERE, He is good and He loves us. There were times when I did not want this trial. Times when I said Lord, I just want David to live, I just want him to be there next month, next week, tomorrow!
I knew He would use all this for His glory somehow, but sometimes, I didn’t want to see that bigger picture, I didn’t want to hear those words. I only wanted to hear: David’s going to be fine, he is going to live still for many years! But the truth is, we don’t know, no-one knows. To use Neena’s words: “But Jesus knows, mommy.” And because He knows, I can face tomorrow, regardless of what tomorrow might hold. Because for me, there is hope beyond this life!
And I can know today that with Jesus in my life I am able thru Him who gives me strength, to face any trial that might come my way. Because trials will come – the bible says the rain falls on the good and the bad.
Your story may be different to mine – it may be a challenging marriage, a struggle with infertility, a strained family relationship, a difficult past, financial struggles, a health related issue, a child who has turned from the Lord… A child with a severe visual impairment, depression (as we’ll hear later on)… We each have our own stories and God gives us the right amount of grace at the right time to deal with each of our stories in their own right.
In your story, however small or big it may be, where do you turn? To yourself? to your strength that lies within? Why not rely on Jesus? He told us that in this world we would experience trials and troubles. I hadn’t quite understood the reality of that verse until I experienced this trial. Jesus also reminded us in John 16 that he has overcome this world. He endured the cross after all, the greatest form of suffering there could possibly be. He took all our sin upon Himself. He endured the cross for me and for you, out of love for us. And because he endured that for me, He is the one I choose to turn to when I suffer.
Hebrews 12 tells us to “fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him, endured the cross…” You see, our present suffering or trial is far outweighed by the prospect of eternity (Romans 8:18) It’s sometimes just hard to see.
I do not know what my future holds. I do not know David’s future. I do not know what the next scan will show. I cannot know that, I cannot see into the future. But I know that HE knows and He lives and because He does, I can face tomorrow. He reminds us in Mark 5, to “not fear, but to believe”.
Jesus is so much more than simply a crutch in my life that helps me get through those difficult days, or helps me take those difficult steps forward through the tough times. He is my life and I am nothing without him. If Jesus isn’t your Lord today, won’t you consider making Him your Lord?
In closing, I would like to share a final song that has moved me and that in short, captures David’s desire through this trial and my prayer, that through any trial, it would continue to be my prayer too. “Your Heart” (Chris Tomlin) I first heard it just after the 2nd round of chemo, a few weeks before David was to undergo his chemo with the stem cell transplant. I didn’t feel ready for another rough ride, but this song spoke to my heart-I know it will speak to yours. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2O-m6GxEX2o
david cb's goliath 