Four weeks ago, my doctor told me that recent tests indicate a high likelihood I have kidney cancer. The tests were the result of an appointment I made because I felt run down. I thought I should take a sleep test or maybe a melatonin. Cancer was the furthest thing from my mind.
Since then, the weeks were filled with doctor visits, a bit of googling, a few degrading procedures and uncomfortable, humbling recoveries. And a little more googling.
The procedures involved transporting an assortment of telescopes, flashlights, and pickaxes through my internal plumbing. I failed the first procedure because my ureter was too small. I promised the doctor I would try harder next time. He inserted a tinier tube inside my already tiny tube in the hope of making it bigger. He said, “Let’s put in a stent for a stint.”
The stent failed but something else worked, and they were able to spy out the cancer, hack away at it, and mine a tissue sample for further testing.
Responses
When I first heard the scary word cancer, time slowed down: I heard the bathroom fan across the hall, I noticed my phone battery was at 37%, and I saw dust settle on the desk behind my laptop. I thought to myself: don’t deny it but don’t dramatize it either.
When I googled my doctor’s description, the range of prognoses was so widely contradictory that I quit searching. I google when I am ignorant in some area. This time around, I was so ignorant that I couldn’t even do helpful internet research, unless I wanted to get lost in obsessive speculation. I was either too dumb or too smart to google. I don’t know which.
A friend emailed me to have faith because, “The eyes of the LORD watch over those who do right” (Ps. 34:15). But in my honest moments, I know I do lots of wrong, and in my dishonest moments, well my self-delusion is not so virtuous either. To rest my hope on how I “do right” seemed contrary to all I believe and write about.
Another friend advised me to claim my healing in the name of Jesus, because God has need of my service. But that suggestion felt oddly self-serving. It missed the God-centeredness of Job’s great line, “Though he slay me, yet I will trust him.” In fact, my friend’s counsel triggered the thoughts that led to my last article, Finding Meaning in Suffering.
After multiple procedures, my doctor said the cancer is lower grade and the odds of a pretty normal life were very good. I was comforted, and then I was immediately convicted: I realized I was trusting in the odds of life but not in the God of Life.
My responses revolved around avoidance of being “that kind of person”: who lives in denial, or overly dramatizes, or has faith in his goodness, or faith in his own faith, or who over-values his own contribution to the kingdom. Those responses all seemed a form of self-hero-worship.
So What Do I Think God Is Saying?
My days right now are like being on a layover at an airport, some random city between departure and arrival. I feel fine for several hours and then feel exhausted, my mind is clear for a bit and then murky. I feel in limbo until my next scheduled surgery. I keep saying to myself, when that is over and the recovery is done, I’ll be ready to get back to work.
But I also keep hearing God say that my entire purpose on earth is to glorify Him, not tomorrow but today, not there but here. He engineered circumstances where I think I have nothing to offer—certainly not heroism—and I hear God ask, “Will you glorify me in your own emptiness?”
During one of the visits, my doctor asked me if I wanted a chaperone. I asked, “What for?” He described a personal examination he needed to perform, and he offered me a witness. I told him I didn’t even want him in the room for that procedure, I certainly didn’t want witnesses.
He laughed, said it was policy to ask, but no one had ever opted for a witness. He said, in the medical practice, sometimes it is not the surgery that hurts most but the humiliation.
I think God is inviting me to glorify him in—and maybe especially in—the humiliation of just being me, with no great heroism to offer. After all, even my cancer got a low grade.
Sam
P. S. Our biggest need on earth goes beyond physical healing; it is the spiritual new life of knowing God. Jesus even said, “This is eternal life, to know you, the only true God, and Jesus the Messiah whom you sent.” And the deepest relationships require conversation.
To grow in a divine dialogue with our Heavenly Father, please watch the video below (Is that all there is?), and read, Hearing God in Conversation.
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Finding Meaning in Suffering
Sam, wish you all the best in the future. I remember long ago reading the response of Malcolm Smith to other Christians asking him “whats God teaching you with the cancer?” to which he replied something like “well, nothing really, other than to be a son, to live, move and have my being in Christ”. I don’t believe this was an answer in resignation, rather an active choice to live out his life. That was around 30 years ago and Malcolm is still alive.
Hi John,
Great story. God doesn’t always bring the healing we want, but he is ALWAYS working to bring us to an attitude that begins to delight in him alone.
We lost it in the Fall and we begin to recover it in our conversions.
Thanks
I begin this response with no idea what I’ll say, Sam, just knowing that I want to say something. My heart sank when I read your headline. In such instances, I tend to think in natural terms. Spiritually, I know God is in the mix, and I know your heart and your faith. But these things get worked out in a flesh-and-blood person, in my friend Sam, and while I’m glad the cancer is low grade, my heart is sad that you’ve got to deal with it at all. You’re a special brother, Sam. Words that come to mind to describe you: a good man, godly, gracious, wise, encouraging, aware, remarkably insightful, faithful, devoted…the list continues, but I’ll conclude it with, utterly unique. You are needed in a big way. But you are loved by your Father in an even bigger, a far, far bigger, way. I love you, my brother, and I will be praying for you.
Hi Bob,
For all you reading this, Bob is the editor of my books, and I think he’s great. For him to have no idea of what he will say, well that is a first in my experience.
Sam, I’m so sorry you are going through this. Thanks for taking us along and allowing us to learn (and laugh!) with you. Praying for you now and will continue.
Thanks!
Praying for you Sam
Thanks.
Praying for you, Sam.
Wow, it is so humbling to have so many people praying.
I thank you all.
I can relate to what you’re going through, Sam. And I wish you the best and God’s blessing on your failing tent. I appreciate your honest and funny self-deprecating thoughts.
I have had two stents placed in the same anterior artery of my heart over the past nineteen years, with an interval of ten years between them. Here it is, nine years after the last one and I am experiencing the same symptoms, only worse. Some days I can’t walk my dog four blocks without feeling exhausted and a deep ache in my left arm. I have had people I consider faithful Christians pray for me, asking God to heal me.
But, I am torn in many ways. I know I have faith in my cardiologist, but a part of me wants to trust God to heal me, too. But a part of me doesn’t believe God should, so I think that nixes any chance He will. The conundrum is that I know I brought each of these problems on myself, having been told in the late 80’s that I had extremely high LDL and needed to take a statin and quit smoking. I did neither until I had a near fatal heart attack in 2000. Then I got the point and quit smoking, after 26 years of 2 packs a day, and started being more mindful of what I ate. In a short time I started feeling normal again and took up cigars. That ended when my cardiologist found out and bluntly asked me if I was trying to kill myself. Besides, I was almost convinced I was developing throat cancer by then.
So, I feel I deserve all the inconvenience and cost of my heart related treatments. Like you, I feel like I cannot expect God to grant me immunity from the consequences of my personal sinful choices just because I am trying to do right now. I didn’t become a believer until the year I quite cigar smoking. Since my wife and family seem to like me enough to want me to get better, I figure it’s probably God’s will for me to continue to let Him help me grow into an older and, possibly, wiser person even if I can’t bring myself to trust Him to heal me.
Hi Stephen,
Thanks for your very personal and candid sharing.
As you say, we can’t ask God to “grant immunity from past sinful choices” just because we are trying hard now. That would be moralism.
But we can ask him anyway, just because he is merciful. That is the point of the gospel, and that is why the gospel is so much richer than mere moralism.
Remember King David who made HUGE sinful choices (worse than smoking 2 packs a day)? When he goes to God he never says, “Forgive me because I’m trying hard or feel really bad.” Instead, he asks God to forgive him simply because God is a loving, merciful God. Here are David’s words:
Ps 51:
1 Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy
blot out my transgressions.
It’s all “according to” His Greatness.
Sam
Thanks, Sam. I needed that!
Oh Sam! We love you so much. Thanks again for your words… your heart. “Thanks God, for Sam.”
May He give you and yours continual peace and surprising blessings.
Thank you Candace!
Thanks for your candor in sharing your cancer journey. When hurting or facing bad news often we withdraw toward isolation but you opted with inclusion mixed with Williamson humor. You are glorifying God. I am praying for Gods influence through you in this. Love you much.
Thanks, and thanks for enjoying the humor. It makes the whole writing thing much more fun.
I really appreciate your thoughtfulness. I find it hard to hold onto pat answers when all God ever told us to do was to hold onto Him. He is far better. He will always be there no matter what the future holds. And if death is our destination sooner than later isn’t that good? But I sincerely hope, and will pray, that it is much later for you. I would certainly miss your honest and thoughtful posts. I’m sure many more people would too.
Terry,
I agree with you about all those “pat answers.” God’s answers NEVER were so pat or predictable. Never. Why do we keep wanting to put Him in a box?
Timm’s been telling me to read this, and I finally did. I’m so sorry you have been conscripted into our club! May you experience incredible kindness and deep moments of peace. This too, believe it or not, is life. May God give you more and more life. I ask it in Jesus’ name. It is for freedom that he has set you free, Sam. Blessings.
Cynthia,
You and Timm have gone through so much more than I can even imagine. You two inspire me.
Sam, thank you for sharing in the midst of struggle… especially every twist and turn your mind took in trying to determine the righteous way to respond. Your openness, strength and humor is refreshing; a testament to God’s power being made perfect in your weakness.
Hi Martin,
Thanks. I hope to connect with you in the new year. Who know? Maybe we’ll figure a way to serve together!
Sam, I am so thankful you are writing about this awful walk that you are on. So few people do. I cringe at the “warrior” personas many people present. What if it is all about how we glorify God in our daily trenches? My dad had a different cancer, but faced it with grace and calm. But he never shared his thoughts in regard to his faith. I wish he’d seen and heard your openness. Yes, I pray for your cancer to be done away with, but truly I pray that you are aware of His presence as your witness and you continue to share that all with us.
Hi Marty,
Well, you hit on something. I’ve had the cancer diagnosis for a month, and I kept wondering what to say. On one hand, I didn’t want lots of pity (and it really isn’t that bad of a diagnosis), but on the other hand, I wanted to share IN THE MIDDLE of it, not at the end. That’s what friends do.
Thanks for noticing 🙂
Sam
Sam, two weeks prior to my finding out I had esophageal cancer, you preached a sermon on “lean not on your own understanding.” It was timely and helpful. The scripture stating that God can give “peace that passes all understanding” has been my crutch through all this time. I pray that you will have peace and comfort in His arms.
Your brother in Christ, Ted Pullen
Thanks! And I definitely won’t lean on my understanding this time around, because I don’t understand very much!
An interesting scripture study exercise for you: look up the original meaning of terms in Psalm 139:13 (especially 13a). I came across it as I was getting back to following your reading plan this morning.
He knows all about you, Sam, and He loves you more than you know.
Powerful testimony Sam. Thank you for sharing your story and what a lesson for all of us: “Will you glorify my in your emptiness.”
-Thomas
I’m in my 13th year beyond my initial diagnosis. He has taught me many things. Among the most profound things I have learned is this:
– I do not place my faith in prayer – it is merely a mechanism.
– I do not place my faith in faith – it’s not the mustard seed that is important.
– I place my faith in the Person of Jesus Christ, who rose Lazarus from the grave.
~ Ephesians 3:20
Hi Mike,
Great words; faith in Jesus Christ alone.
Thanks