My Journey With Cancer - Part 8

December 24, 2017 – Visual Effects

“I hate what this disease is doing to my body.”

Those words were spoken by me to Kay this week after I looked into the mirror at what was happening to my body. She commented that in all of years of marriage she had never seen, especially my arms and upper body, look like they do now.

I have always been one who has taken pride in taking care of my physical body. At nearly the age of 50, I rode my bike the entire 500 miles of the Blue Ridge Parkway, keeping up with, and on the highest climb on the hottest day, beating men much younger than me to the top. I have never been a tobacco user. I have never used any illicit drugs. I have never abused, or come close to abusing, alcohol. I have always been the one who worked hard, went to the gym regularly, exercised, and watched my diet (well, usually watched my diet, there is that chocolate thing. J)

I was the one whom everyone said, looked ten year younger than my age. They always looked shocked to learn my age.

Until now.

It hurts to look in the mirror and see what this disease has done to age me in the past 6-months. It hurts deeply, far deeper than I can express in mere words. Yet, there it is staring me in the face.

Research tells me that with no surgery, I have a 5% chance of surviving 12-months. History with other patients says I have at least a 25% chance of seeing the 5-year mark following the surgery.

How am I to cope? Quite simply, as N. T. Wright would put it, I hope in the resurrection. I hope in the fact that God will ultimately redeem ALL of his creation – of which I am a part. I hope in the hope (expectation) of a new incorruptible body. I choose to hope in the same hope Paul wrote to the church in Corinth in the second of his surviving letters to them.

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. ~ 2 Corinthians 4:16 – 5:1

The metaphor is incredibly comforting. I say this at every funeral I perform. This body is a “tent.” A tent is a temporary dwelling. We look forward to our “building.” A building is a permanent structure. God has prepared for us a permanent dwelling. We do not know what it will be like, but we will not be disappointed. John wrote in his first letter,

. . . what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him. ~ 1 John 3:2

I am not surrendering by any means. As Kay said to me, “You will just have to get through this surgery and build your body back up.”

That is my immediate goal.

On this Christmas Eve, as I prepare to preach to my congregations about the hope that comes with the incarnation, my long range hope is far greater.