A Cup of Tea for the Heart

 (Copyright © 2011 by A Cup of Tea for the Heart, LLC. All rights reserved.)

You are likely familiar with the story of Job. The Bible tells us that Job was blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil. Satan and God had a conversation about Job one day, and Satan accused God of putting a hedge around Job, blessing him far beyond what anyone could imagine. God had faith in Job, and so he allowed Satan to take away all of his possessions, including all of his children, and afflict him with sores all over his body. Job’s wife told him to curse God and die; even his friends turned against him, but the Bible tells us, “In all this Job did not sin or charge God with wrong” (Job 1:22, RSV).

I would like to address illness as an “unacceptable” in life. Unfortunately for some, their lot in life will be to suffer pain. They have no choice in the matter. We do not know what will befall us in the area of health. Some are blessed with extremely long lives that are free from pain, while others endure it constantly and are never free from its grip. All of us, at some point in our lives, will be forced to deal with illness.

Three times Paul begged the Lord to remove his thorn in the flesh, but the Lord refused, saying, “My grace is sufficient for thee; for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” Look at Paul’s life. He endured the torment and pressed on in the cause of Christ, never letting his infirmities interfere with his work. “Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (II Corinthians 12:9, NKJV). Being ill does not affect our relationship with God, except that it sometimes makes us more dependent upon Him for strength, which we do not feel we need when we are healthy.

At one point in my life, my “unacceptables” became a huge burden for me. On Labor Day 1989, at the age of six, our oldest son had emergency exploratory surgery. We anxiously met with the surgeon, who informed us that she had removed a tumor from his intestine, and the pathology report was malignant. Our son was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoblastic Lymphoma, a very aggressive children’s cancer. After teleconferencing with other pediatric oncologists nationwide, we met with a room full of doctors and staff and were told that the protocol for this type of cancer and our son’s age and level of malignancy would be nine months of chemotherapy.

In addition to our six-year-old, we had a three-year-old son, and I was eight months pregnant with our daughter at the time of our son’s surgery. While our son was still in the hospital, I received word that my obstetrical doctor had been suspended from practicing medicine due to an alcohol problem, and so I had to find another obstetrician who would accept me in my last month of pregnancy. Also, my seventy-six-year-old mom had had double knee-replacement surgery during this period of time, and she wound up in the ICU with blood clots in her lungs and was in the hospital for six weeks. When this happened to my mom, I was at a point of numbness. All I could do was “let go and let God” take care of it. I felt so powerless and helpless. I prayed a lot, and I know many prayers were being lifted up for me, too.

The very first treatment our son received was administered intravenously in the hospital. Because these chemicals are extremely powerful and their task is to kill the cancer cells in a person’s body, the possible side effects range from agitation, confusion, convulsions, hallucinations, vomiting, shortness of breath, and high blood pressure to cardiac arrest. They brought a table into the room with all the emergency equipment ready just in case our son had a bad reaction to the medication. As they began the IV, I sat in a chair over in the corner of his room, tears streaming down my face as I watched this poison begin to flow into his little six-year-old veins, not knowing what kind of reaction he would have. The nurse had the nerve to look at me and ask, “Are you okay?”

Our son displayed amazing strength after his surgery and during his chemotherapy. One thing we realized as his treatment continued throughout the nine months was that he instinctively knew the danger and consequences of his cancer, but he chose not to dwell on it. He went right ahead living his life as a child. When his blood count would go down after a treatment, resulting in nausea and feeling bad, as the next week approached and his blood count improved, he played and did all the things that a six-year-old wanted to do. He only questioned his illness one time. One night he asked me, “Why do I have to have cancer? I’ve only lived six years. I didn’t think you got cancer until you were at least ten years old.”

Prayer is SO vital and SO powerful during times like these. I know we personally could not have gotten through that year without our son and our family being lifted up in many, many prayers and by so many people that we will never know.

There were many times during our son’s illness that things would happen and if not for a silent prayer, I would not have gotten through them. About three weeks after his first chemo treatment, he took a shower one morning, and handfuls of hair came out and were clinging around the drain in the shower and the remaining hair covered his face, chest, and back. I was close to tears and mentally pleaded with God to please help me through this and not break down in front of my son. After stepping out of the shower, he looked into the bathroom mirror, laughed and said, “Look! I’m a werewolf!” Lesson learned: children handle adversities much better than we grown-ups do!

When Job lost his possessions, he said, “Naked came I out of my mother’s womb and naked shall I return…the Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21, KJV). Job was mistaken about his misfortune. The Lord had blessed him with his many herds and fine sons and daughters, but Satan took them away. The minute disaster befalls us, we ask, “Why, God? Why did you do this?”

To witness our six-year-old son, with fresh stitches in his stomach, being strapped to a board and undergoing that painful bone marrow test, all the while looking at us, yelling and crying, “I hate you! I hate you!” and all of the additional tests that followed that week to ensure that the cancer had not spread—throughout the grueling nine months of chemotherapy, my husband and I never questioned God and asked, “Why?” Instead, we both realized that because of Satan and man’s sin in the garden, God allows bad things to happen, and we accepted these cards we were dealt and worked toward a solution through much prayer and pleading to God and asking for guidance from Him.

It is so important to pray for one another in times of adversity. For God to hear all the prayers going up for one individual and his circumstances has got to be moving and touching to Him, and He tells us in Matthew 21:22 (RSV), “And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith,” and James 5:16b (RSV), “…Pray for one another that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man has great power in its effects.”

As Christians facing life-threatening illnesses, God has provided us with prayer, the promise of Heaven, and a comforter. John 14:16 (KJV) says, “And I will pray to the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you forever.” Through these avenues, God gives us strength to make it day by day. It is hard for me to understand how non-believers make it through such difficult times without God.

Someone once said, “The great illusion of leadership is to think that we can be led out of the desert by someone who has never been there.” Jesus has been there—to the cross, suffering, dying, and committing Himself to God’s eternal purpose. In the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus prayed “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as You will” (Matthew 26:39, NASB). Jesus is our example, our role model in learning to accept the unacceptable.

Post Script

My son turned twenty-seven years old this spring. His check-ups have all been clear, and one could probably say he is cured. At his last visit several years ago, the oncologist assured us that our son received the lowest dosage of chemotherapy for his age and recommended protocol; he stated that if he were to get cancer again, it would be from a different source, a new tumor, or from the chemotherapy itself, which damaged the good cells as well as killed the cancer cells. One of my concerns about his attaining adulthood was that one of the medications he was given could possibly make him sterile. That concern was quickly put to rest when he and his wife presented us with a beautiful granddaughter last December. Thank you, God, for answering yet another prayer!

~ Delores Jackson ~

I graduated from high school in 1972, attended one year at Abilene Christian University and was a legal secretary for sixteen years.

My claim to fame: I actually broke the news of President Reagan being shot to George W. Bush, as he was a client of one of the law firms I worked for and was in my boss’ office that morning (George H.W. Bush was Vice-President at the time).

I was a church secretary for seven years and now work part-time out of the house and babysit my first grandchild, which is the best job of all!

I have been married to Alan Jackson (no, not THE Alan Jackson) for thirty-three years. We have three grown children—two sons and a daughter; a daughter-in-law, and oh yes, did I mention I have a grandbaby?

I have lived in Oklahoma eighteen years and have been a Christian for forty-two years.

This story is from Tough Times Don’t Last ~ Tough Women Do, now available on this website.

Copyright © 2011 by A Cup of Tea for the Heart, LLC. All rights reserved.

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