Emmaus Walk / Debra Tomaselli

A hope, a life and a prayer that my struggles glorify God

Life’s struggles can really be a blessing.

Twenty years ago, I was diagnosed with cancer. The lymphoma was in its early stages, so the oncologists suggested we delay treatment and monitor its progression to determine the best time to start chemotherapy.

“It’s like we have only one bullet to shoot it with,” they said. “If we use it too soon, when it comes back, as it typically does, we have nothing to attack it with.”

Months later, I struggled with fatigue. Physician visits, concerns and labs escalated. Then, somehow, without intervention, my strength returned.

“What are you doing differently?” Dr. Reynolds asked. “Have you changed your diet? Have you started taking vitamins?”

“I’m not doing anything different,” I said.

But his pen was poised above the clipboard, ready to record the changes.

I looked him in the eye and said, “You want to know what I’m doing?”

He nodded.

“I pray a lot—all the time. Every breath is a prayer,” I said. “And I don’t tell God what to do. I just pray for courage and strength to carry out his will—and if he sends me down this road of lymphoma tomorrow, I trust his timing and have faith that this, too, will somehow glorify the Lord.”

Dr. Reynolds sat back in his chair. “Well, keep it up,” he said, “because it’s working.”

When I got home, I wrote that story and distributed copies to friends. “Someday, I’ll have to eat those words,” I said. “Please remind me of what I said.”

I’d already surrendered my life to God. Years earlier, when my younger brother’s death rocked my world, my faith grew in unfathomable ways. There was nowhere else to go.

So the diagnosis heightened my appreciation for each moment. My husband and I attended our daughters’ cheerleading events, horseback riding lessons and gymnastics competitions. We celebrated first Communions, confirmations and graduations.

Our oldest daughter graduated from college on a sunny spring day. As I was walking through the parking lot, there was an unforgettable moment when the sun warmed my cheek. I thanked God that I was here to celebrate this milestone.

Likewise, when our youngest daughter got married, a splash of sunshine filtered through a canopy of trees, touching me with intense gratitude. I realized that my unspoken prayer was that I’d be around until my children were grown.

Recently, however, health problems arose. After several tests and consultations, the day has come. It’s time for battle. The cancer is damaging my system. We must use that bullet.

Thankfully, the prognosis is good. “This will work,” Dr. Reynolds said. I believe him.

But I know it’s out of my hands, it’s out of his hands. It’s in the hands of the Lord. And I stand firm:

“I pray a lot—all the time. Every breath is a prayer. And I don’t tell God what to do. I just pray for strength and courage to carry out his will—and if he sends me down this road of lymphoma tomorrow, I trust his timing and have faith that this too will somehow glorify the Lord.”
 

(Debra Tomaselli writes from Altamonte Springs, Florida. She can be reached at dtomaselli@cfl.rr.com.) †