The other day we took my dad to the U of M Cancer Center for his first oncologist appointment. Just pulling in that place it felt surreal. There is that dreaded word we all hate to hear and see, and it is plastered in big, bold letters on the building.

I said to myself, is this really happening? My dad has cancer? It can’t be true. Just weeks ago he was fine. And we were planning our vacation for next summer to Gettysburg. My dad so full of life and laughter, cancer?

As we went into the building we knew we were in the right place as we saw people with bandana’s and hats on their heads and in wheelchairs and it just seemed weird to me how life just goes on in this place. People just go to their appointments,  others are casually walking down the halls, doctors discussing their lunch plans, people checking their phones, and all the while there’s these people here that have this thing invading their bodies and they don’t know how much longer they will be here.

It just doesn’t seem right there is so much normal going on in the world when other people’s worlds are being rocked. If that makes sense.

Anyhow we get to the pancreatic cancer floor. And so you sign in and then you just sit and wait to see your oncologist. There’s a lot that goes on in your mind during that few minutes of waiting. I can tell my dad is apprehensive, he has his head down, hand on his forehead, his wheels are turning and he is very nervous. I felt his anxiety. There is a huge lump in my throat. I look at Debbie and my husband and they are feeling the same.

And in the middle of us waiting and others sitting there waiting to be seen or infused with chemo God decides to infuse us with some strength and hope.

First let me back up by telling you that my Aunt Kandie (who is one of my dad’s dearest cousins and best friends, finds out on the same day my dad got his diagnosis that her best friend Linda also has a similar cancer as my dad, not to mention this is her third bout with cancer.) So Aunt Kandie has been going back and forth from Linda’s to my dad’s house helping.

And we’ve been praying for Linda and asking about Linda. And Linda has been calling and asking about my dad daily. And Aunt Kandie has been sharing with us how amazing Linda has been through her journey and her remarkable courage and faith. And how she just wants God to get glory with her life.

So, as we are waiting, I leave to go to the bathroom and come back to find this beautiful woman in a wheelchair reaching over to my dad and she is holding his hands. And his face is lit up a million light bulbs and he is crying. By now you are guessing who it is. Linda and her husband Paul. Now how in the world do these two lives intersect like this?

How do you end up with the same type of cancer, at the same huge hospital, on the same floor, on the same day, at the same time?

Because they both know and serve the same GOD.

And that same God knew my day was needing hope and strength at that EXACT moment. We all were.

As I looked at Linda I was in awe of how radiant she was. How she glows with the glory of God. And how she was sent that day to bring strength despite her body’s weak condition.  My dad looks at her and tells her with tears flowing, “You are my inspiration”.  She says back with a twinkle in her eye and a confident smile, “I hope I’m somebodys’!” Reaching over and grabbing my dad’s hands again. I look down and there is a tattoo on her wrist and a little diamond nose ring in her nose. Memories she made with her granddaughters recently. Not only is this lady amazing, she is just cool.

I’m sitting there taking this all in, realizing this moment is holy. Designed by a holy God, for an exact purpose, and we wished we could just stop time and sit there. Because God’s presence was so tangible, His peace so real.  And then they call my dad’s name. I hated to leave them. We all hated to leave each other. Something sacred had taken place that would never be forgotten. A gift of grace.

So we go back to the room and see the doctor, he is nice. Young, but informative, explains everything thoroughly, gives us the good and bad news about my dad’s cancer. Tells my dad he has to fight. He has a shot. Explains everything about the chemo and that if he gets stronger in the next three weeks they may be able to start it. But he has a lot of work to do beforehand. Also tells him none of us know when our time is up, that each of us need to live each day to the fullest and advises my dad to do so. To make every day count.

We leave and go to the elevators and we are all quiet and processing. Earlier when Chad took my dad to get his blood drawn there was a young woman there waiting and Chad overheard her age.  She is still there when we come back downstairs. Her hair is gone, she has a hat on and she is 19. And I look at my dad and he is crying for her.  And he’s also wondering what we are all wondering. Why God? Why the young ones?

So much doesn’t make sense in this world. I think we all have some questions we really want answered. As we’ve been going through this journey for the last 7 weeks, I’ve had a lot of questions, anger, worry, fear, anxiety, every negative emotion you can pretty much put your finger on. And I’ve also looked up and said, “Wow God I’m a really great Christian right now.”

But, I’ve also had moments of strength and peace that was beyond my understanding. I’ve realized my strengths and my weaknesses more than ever and though the enemy keeps prosecuting me and telling me how much I suck, I know God is using all of this to show me how to trust Him when life is hard.

So these are some of the truths I’ve learned these last few weeks:

Cancers of the body are gut-wrenchingly horrible. But I’m wondering if the cancers  in our hearts and souls are just as bad or worse. Our pride, fear, doubt, anxiety, self-absorption, unforgiveness, bitterness, and lack of compassion. Both cancers wreak havoc on your body, heart and families hearts. But, we can choose to let God heal our soul cancers if we will let Him.

As I look back on discussions my father and I have had over the last few weeks, one of them was being a Reacher. We watched a minister a few weeks ago on t.v. talk about how the Reachers are the humble one’s. The one’s that get well in life. And as soon as I heard it I thought of Mary Magdalene. How she knew if she could just reach far enough to touch the hem of Christ’s garment she could get well. I’ve also realized that Reachers are one’s that make lasting impressions. My dad is a Reacher. My dad realized 21 years ago he needed to get well and he has helped so many since then by reaching out and serving.  Linda is a Reacher. As I watched her reach across my father and give him her hope and strength, I realized that is what we are all here for.

As that doctor said to my dad, we none know when our time is up. And we won’t have all our questions answered this side of heaven, and this life is incredibly hard. But, we can reach out to a loving God that never leaves us and ask Him to help us and to show us how to reach out to others and give them our strength and hope. We can be Reachers ’til the day we die. And that my friends is a beautiful thing.

I will leave you with this scripture I’ve been pondering on for quite some time. I heard it the first time at my dad’s sponsor Bill’s funeral a couple years ago. And I’ve been asking God to show me fully what it means: Ecclesiastes 7:2

It is better to go a house of morning (funeral) than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart.

To me what this scripture means is don’t get so caught up in this life. Don’t let it fool you. This life is not what we are here for. Wake up. You were made for a purpose. You were made to glorify the living God with your life. Reach for Him.

And Reach to others.

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