Part 3: A Call to a Life That is Greater

    This is the end of a three part series. If you missed Part 1, click here. For Part 2, click here.

    After a week, that felt like a month, the head of oncology, Dr Black, called. He said they had five doctors looking at her mole. Four of them had already agreed it was Stage 4. He was waiting for one more doctor to get back to him and then they would decide how to proceed.

     I wanted them to do chemo and radiation on her TODAY.  I did not understand what was taking so long. I knew the sooner she got treatment, the sooner the cancer would be killed.

     He said, first, she would have an MRI and then, another larger surgery on her thigh. After that, they would determine a treatment plan.

     I called our Pediatrician, often, to see if he had heard from the oncologist. After another week of worry, I finally said to him, in frustration, “I don’t understand what we are waiting for. Why aren’t they starting some type of treatment on her right away?”

     I will never forget his answer. It was like a dagger plunging into my heart.

“It is not going to matter when they start the treatment,” he said solemnly.

Death.

He had given her a death sentence.

     Were they not even going to try to save her? Was there not going to be any attempt at treatment to kill the cancer? I could not believe he said that. It was more than I could bear.

     A volcano of rage churned inside me, and the never-ending tears flowed down my face. I clinched my teeth together. I could not take it any more. Broken hearted, I exploded,

“It matters a whole lot to ME!”

     He ripped, what little hope I had left. Any hope I had that she would be one of the ten percent, to live, was crushed.

     It is a terrible place to be, without hope.

     I wish I could say I was a pillar of faith during this time. I wasn’t.  All I could do was beg. I was a desperate Mom, begging God to save her child. I begged and pleaded with God all day long. I woke up every night wondering if she had died in her sleep. I would walk into her dark room and check to see if she was still breathing, and beg God some more.

     “Please save her, Lord. Please heal her. Please, kill this cancer inside her.”

     I clung to Psalm 23. I had never understood the part about ‘the shadow of death’ until then. Nobody had died, but I could feel this heavy shadow covering us, anticipating the worst. Verse four says, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”

     After the Pediatrician told me it would not matter when they started treatment on her, we knew the Lord was our only hope. The Sunday after that call, we sat in the front row at church and listened to the choir sing. We were numb. I did not want to talk to anybody because I did not want to cry anymore. I was looking forward to the distraction of singing. Then, like angels singing down from heaven, the choir belted out these amazing words:

“Great is Thy faithfulness!” “Great is Thy faithfulness!“
 Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—
“Great is Thy faithfulness,” Lord, unto me!

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

     Vince and I, who love to sing, stood frozen in silence, tears streaming down our cheeks. It was like they were singing just for us. They were reminding us that the Lord is faithful. They were filling our souls with the hope that had been crushed. The Lord is our only ‘strength for today’ and He is the ‘bright hope for tomorrow.’

     I did not take it as a promise for her healing. But, I knew the Lord would be with us during this difficult time.

     That next week, I received another call from the oncologist.

     “Hello, this is Dr. Black. Something has happened to your daughter’s mole over the weekend. It appears to have changed. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t believe it is malignant anymore. I have sent it back to the other four doctors to reevaluate.  I will call you when I have their confirmation. She will need more surgery, then, hopefully, no further treatment after that.

     PRAISE GOD was all I could say. The doctor did not know what had happened, but I knew exactly what had happened. Our great and awesome God had healed her! He had answered the prayers of so many people who were praying for her! I hung up the phone and buried my face in my hands, and sobbed.

     “Thank you Lord! Thank you for saving her! Thank you for healing her!”

     A month later, she had another surgery. The surgeon removed a three-inch by three-inch chunk of her tiny thigh, and she does, indeed, still have a large scar from it. But, when someone suggested she could have the thick, keloid scar removed or fixed, she replied,

“I would never get rid of that scar. That is where God healed me.”

      Psalm 107:20
      He sent out his word and healed you, snatching you from the door of death.

      Psalm 118:17
      You WILL NOT die; instead you WILL live to tell what the Lord has done.

     We are so grateful to God, that He chose to heal our daughter.  The fact that He snatched our Little Sweetie from the shadow of death, shows, overwhelmingly, how much He loves her and has called her to a life that is greater.

***I know God does not have any favorites. He loves all of His children equally. We are all His favorites. I do not know why He chooses to heal some people and not others. I wish He healed everyone. But, in our daughter’s case, I am forever grateful that He saved her. I am still grateful that He is our strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.***