A couple of weeks ago, my Mom started to have some pain in her leg. We tried not to worry - after all, I myself had a strange ankle injury a few weeks ago that got so bad I went to the ER but it settled down and was nothing more than a sprain, though it induced extreme pain.
An x-ray of my Mom's leg showed no fracture. An ultrasound did not find a blood clot. An MRI, however, produced a result none of us was prepared to face: "spots" in the bone marrow. Out of the orthopedist's office and into the oncologist's office, we heard the news we had all been dreading: there is a 1.5" tumor in the bone marrow, and we must assume it is cancer until proven otherwise. We will do a bone scan to get a better picture of what is going on and then we will discuss whether radiation is a viable option or whether we will need chemotherapy.
A week. We slept on this news for a week. We cried over it for a week, held very still and listened for God's voice for a week, discussed the news with only the most fierce prayer warriors for a week. We wondered. Worried. Trusted. Hope rose and fell, rose and fell. Most of all, we prayed for a week. A long, solid week.
Today came - the day after the bone scan; the day we would learn about our future. I drove alone to meet my Mom, her husband and my sister (who drove from out of town) at the oncologist's office. I scanned the Christian radio stations, looking for music of praise and hope. I found none, but heard God ask me to be heard. So I was. I prayed softly to Him - not a prayer of desperation, no tears, just a prayer asking for peace, for healing, for wisdom, clarity, understanding - for Him. All of Him surrounding us.
We were ushered back to a small room and we waited, chatted, laughed. These are the people in my life I can be genuine with. There's no need to put on a brave face, but our relationship is so strong, so close, that we lift one another up without even trying to.
The doctor peeked in and said he needed to speak with the radiologist. What could this mean? We were on pins and needles! He came back quickly, asked my Mom to describe again where she is feeling such pain. She motioned to her knee and down the side of her shin. He was quiet, looked her right in the eyes, and said, "Susan, the bone scan is completely normal."
I . . . cannot describe to you what that moment was like. A split second of disbelief, then joy flooding in. Assurances that the bone scan showed absolutely no cancer anywhere, the bloodwork was clear, the tumor marker is in normal range (as in, normal for any person, not just for a cancer patient!). What is causing her pain? A torn meniscus! Oh, there's never been such rejoicing in all the land over a torn meniscus.
Here's the thing that is amazing: our God used this scare. Ohhh did He. I couldn't begin to list everything He taught even ME during this time, much less what He did in the hearts of my Mom, my sister, the people who love us and prayed faithfully for us during this week. I will tell you this, though. I HAVE seen the healing hand of God. I have seen devastation turned to hope. I have trusted Him in the face of crisis, and His Spirit has enabled me to do that. I have felt peace like a river, knowing that whatEVER the outcome of that bone scan, His plan is holy and good and trustworthy. We can put *everything* into His hands and know that we are well cared for.
This week, as my family and I prayed for my Mom, we prayed for complete healing. He chose to give her complete healing - here on Earth. And I am . . . SO thankful.
Mom, I love you. You - are - INCREDIBLE. Megan, Rod, I love you too. You two are pillars of strength and hope and joy and you mean the world to me. Alif and Jason, you are rocks in our lives and we could not do these hard times without you. Love you both so much. Father God, Healer, thank you. Tonight and always, may we rest securely in your arms.