A Glimpse of God’s Purpose in my Suffering

In the days before my surgery I had a day at Hopkins for some intense scans. My pain was at a premium and my bed beckoned me as I got a PET scan and an MRI.  What I wasn’t prepared for on that dark day was a miracle, a complete change of heart, as I caught a glimpse of God’s plan through my suffering.

I have been blessed with so many caring friends and relatives who have graciously reached out to me in love, that list included a distant cousin, Linda.  A long list of unreturned calls lay in my path, but as I passed time between scan appointments, the Lord prompted me to return Linda’s call.  My day was transformed as she told me about a group of women that she works with in a Sober House, she had shared my story with women who were fighting the beast of addiction. Amidst their own trials, they were lovingly following my journey and rooting for me; finding this out altered the cry of my heart!

My eyes began to sting as I was holding back tears, my spirit shifted from my own misery to an unimaginable purpose in my suffering. If my trials were bringing encouragement to these women (wives, mothers, daughters, sisters and friends), who were fighting addiction, then I would walk with them through the pain (just as others have done for me).  I vehemently abhor addiction; many of my loved ones are or have been in the bondage that it claims over lives.

Purpose was all I needed to embrace my day of fasting (from everything but the liquid contrast). After my chat with Linda I realized I could spend the next portion of my day (in the loud tubes) praying for those women instead of feeling sorry for myself. Below I have written a letter to them, I hope it will bless you all.

My Sweet Friends

I have never met you, but Linda has told me you are with her because you have been ensnared in the claws of addiction.  Oh my sweet sisters, please feel my love and compassion. I know and love many people who battle addiction. I understand that you walking away from your addiction is like me walking away from my cancer, it would be nice and we’d both love to do it, but it isn’t that simple.

The last place I ever wanted to go in my life was an oncologist office. “I don’t belong here, I don’t want to go! It is scary and I’d rather just coast in denial,” are feelings I have had. Perhaps you can relate. However, just as you wanted me to go to the oncologist so I could get better, I want you to go to AA, or any of the other resources, God has provided for you to get healthy. I’ll be the first to admit how miserable it feels to seek help; who wants to be weak, to be in need? I know there is not an addict in the world that wants to go to AA or rehab any more than I wanted to go to the oncologist, but we need to do what is necessary to get healed.

The difference is, to the non-addict it seems like you can decide to change your life but you won’t. Furthermore there is a social stigma with addiction, as though you chose it, not acknowledging that it has lordship over your life.  Getting help with cancer involves an outpouring of love, support, prayers, meals and all sorts of things.  People raise money, run races and wear pink to support my illness but for you sweet girls it is judgment, finger pointing and criticism from exasperated loved ones, and the shame you feel for the failure that seems so evident to all.  I simply want to come alongside you today and say I know what it is like to suffer and as you have carried a torch for me, I am carrying one for you. As I have pointed out, your suffering is far darker than mine. For all the times you simply needed someone to say, “You can do it, I believe in you, I forgive you, I know you are trying,” I am here for you today.

From what I understand, addiction includes self-derogating lies. We all have them, but somehow it seems to the addict, they become larger than life. The addiction masks the pain and creates a deeper mess, which leads to more disparagement. Criticisms, complaints and verbal affirmations of your failures begin to rack up from loved ones.  There is a cry in your heart, “you don’t understand, this isn’t me!”

A vicious cycle begins and the problems that originally were just lies, begin to turn into truths, as life begins to loose it’s footing; the only thing that brings protection from the lies in your head and the gripes of those who love you the most, is when you are connected with your addiction. It beckons you.

I want you to know that I am praying for you.  Just as many have encouraged me to fight the good fight, I am encouraging you.  Just as I set out on roads I did not want to go on to get healthy, I hope you will too.  I know addiction is humiliating but let me tell you; rectal cancer is not exactly comfortable to share either. Once I did however, it was so liberating. As long as I hid my secret, Satan had a lot of power and it grew like mold on a dark damp wall. Once I began to share my (very embarrassing) symptoms with others the light shone on it and I began to gather a support system that only grew and I began to get healed.

What I am trying to say is you have cared about me, you don’t know me; and I, though I don’t know you, care about you.  You rooted for me and had me in your thoughts and prayers as you wished healing to come into my life. I am doing the same for you.  For the sake of those who love you (and that includes me), please recognize that no matter how worthless you feel, you are not.  Please sincerely ask God to rescue you and listen to His love as He restores and refreshes you. If He can give me tools to get stage three cancer out of my rectum, He can help you! Believe that you are the apple of His eye and it has noting to do with anything you have ever done, it has to do with the fact that He made you and desires to supply all your needs. Trust him.