My Second Best Christmas Gift

My Second Best Christmas Gift 

 

     “Okay now, here we go, ai generated, man, doctor-8451277.jpgjust keep still, it will be over in a few minutes.” 

I’ve heard those words every day for the past seven weeks, as I gave my body over to the monster machine that’s been doing my radiation. 

 

Four months ago I had my annual physical. I left the office feeling pretty great, The doctor said I was perfectly healthy, and for someone who just signed up for Medicare, I thought I was doing pretty good. 

Until I had my Mammogram. 

 

     I didn’t receive the little blue card in the mail telling me things were alright. I received a phone call instead, telling me to come in for a re-take and a possible ultrasound. I was a little concerned, but since they had called me in once before to have a re-take, I wasn’t too worried. 

So I showed up at the office and waited while trying not to bite my nails. They did the mammogram, and then asked me to wait. “Oh yes,” she said, “And don’t get dressed yet.” 

So I kept my lovely gown on, what there was of it, and sat and waited. 

“The doctor does want to do an ultrasound,” she said. 

So I marched off to the next room, trying as best I could to keep the gown together for some semblance of modesty. I laid down on the table for the test, no problem, no pain, and I watched on the monitor. 

 

     Then she asked me to sit in the chair again until the doctor checked the results. I waited. Glancing around the room at the large clock on the wall and all the sterile instruments everywhere didn’t ease my frightened thoughts. 

“The doctor wants to talk to you,” she said, “we found something on the ultrasound and we need to do a biopsy. Not all biopsies come back benign,” she added. 

I walked out of the office, speechless, with a racing heart, and drove over to see my daughter, Lynn. She told me things would be okay and promised to go with me for the biopsy. 

The night before I got the results from the biopsy, I had a dream. Someone spoke to me and said, “If it’s bad, will you trust me?” 

 

     Before I could even speak, my phone rang. Whew, I got out of answering that question. It was after midnight and no one called at that hour, unless it was bad news. But it was two text messages from a friend, asking how I was doing. I thought it was strange because that friend went to bed with the chickens. I read her messages, telling me that I was in her prayers. 

As soon as I hung up the phone, I heard the voice again, not out loud, but very strongly in my spirit. 

“If it’s bad, will you trust me?”
I knew who was speaking.
“Yes, Lord,” I answered, just before I laid back down and fell into a peaceful sleep. 

 

     The next morning the doctor called and my life changed forever. I had breast cancer. The good news was that they caught it early. She would set me up to see a surgeon. I had never had any type of surgery and I was afraid. Then I cried, and I cried, and I cried some more. Then I called my daughter, Lynn. While I was on my way over to her house, I got a call from the surgeon’s office. They didn’t waste any time setting me up with an appointment. 

I walked into Lynn’s house in tears. She surrounded me with her open arms. Her husband, Alan, was also there for support. 

 

     “I have an appointment already,” I said, “with a surgeon, but I don’t know what for. I don’t know if it’s for a consultation, or if I’ll even walk out of there with my breast.” 

“Oh yeah,” Alan said, “you will, but it might be in a bag.” 

We all laughed. 

 

     We sat and they prayed for me. People called to offer their support. My other daughter, Pam, my son, Trevor, and two of my sisters, Penny & Rena. That took me through my first day and I felt the peace that passes all understanding. 

Too bad, I didn’t realize that God’s peace would come and go, all depending on my thoughts at any given moment. 

I needed surgery, which I had never had before and I was afraid. 

I was never one to bow down in prayer, I figured God could hear me no matter what. One day in church they asked everyone to kneel in prayer. 

 

     You know I can’t kneel, Lord, with this arthritis, I may not be able to get back up. 

The next morning while drinking my coffee I spilled it all over the table and the floor. I ran for a rag and then got down on my hands and knees while cleaning the mess. That still small voice spoke to me. “I thought you couldn’t get down on your knees?” God has a sense of humor. 

 

     That menacing fear of the big C. brought me to my knees on many days. 

And God is good. I felt His presence. He heard and answered all the many prayers on my behalf. He sent family and friends to support me. He made the hard things easy and I came through the surgery with many blessings. The tumor was small, all the margins were clear and 5 Lymph nodes tested negative. The oncotype DX test came back at a number which meant that I didn’t need Chemo. But I would need radiation treatments for seven weeks. 

God told me not to be afraid, but instead of listening to Him, I started listening to others. Fear reigned supreme. For me, radiation was the largest emotional battle of my life. But, God kept his promise to not give me more than He could bear. And as I started to listen to and Trust Him, He held my hand and walked me through another valley in my life. I had my last radiation treatment that morning. I felt great. The doctor told me that I did so well, maybe I should get a job in radiation. I’d say that’s a pretty wonderful Christmas gift. 

 

     And my best gift? I received that 37 years ago. The day I asked Jesus to forgive my sins and come into my heart. And He is the one who makes everything else possible. 

 

What do you need this Christmas? Have you ever received the Best gift of all, Jesus? 

Are you facing a frightening problem? Be it health, financial, or any number of other things? No matter who may tell us that the answer we need is impossible, just remember this. 

 

But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them, With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible. Matthew:19:26 

 

December 22, 2011

Facebook
Twitter
LinkedIn
Pinterest
Tumblr

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Translate »