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2007-08-07 issue:

Faith for living or dying

Facing cancer treatment with Scripture, song and prayer

by Esther M. Bailey

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After I told her about my mastectomy, a friend said to me, “I don’t know how you can be so casual about this.” Actually, all my confidants took my situation more seriously than I did.

A combination of factors prepared me to face the diagnosis of breast cancer with a minimum of trauma. I had read a powerful book on healing that programmed my mind with positive thinking. Perhaps God had me in mind when my pastor said, “Faith that is untested isn’t faith at all.” Maybe I’m overdue for a test, I thought. After all, my carefree existence couldn’t last forever.

My courage could have come only from God. On my own, I’m pretty much of a coward, fearing the unknown. I’ll take the tried and true course of action over adventure any time. Natural characteristics, endowed by my Creator, did not include bravery.

When I first discovered the thickening in my breast, neither the mammogram nor the ultrasound revealed a definite diagnosis. My doctor ordered a biopsy, but I had already planned to attend a conference and did not want to cancel. Before my doctor agreed to postpone the biopsy, she said, “I don’t think this will turn out to be nothing.”

The stimulating conference kept my mind occupied. I didn’t have time to think about the possibility of cancer. After going to bed one night, though, I felt the need to touch the hem of Christ’s garment. I placed a Kleenex over my breast as a symbol of my faith and slept soundly.

Of the 10 samples taken during the biopsy, seven of them turned out to be positive for cancer. Before surgery, I asked my pastor and his wife to anoint me with oil and pray that God take charge of everything that happened in the operating room. Following biblical instruction in James 5:14 strengthened my faith. Another pastor and two minister friends waited with my husband during the surgery. A sense of divine protection encompassed me.
Thursday morning, following my Wednesday surgery, I returned home, able to assume a nearly normal routine. I attended church Sunday morning, full of praise to God.

Counting my blessings helped me retain an inner joy throughout my treatment program. When I compared my situation to the problems of two of my friends, I considered myself fortunate to face a comparatively easy challenge. A woman three years younger than I was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Over a period of months another woman had several eye surgeries that left her with significant impairment of vision. Either of those afflictions would have challenged me far more than cancer, but faith also helped my friends handle their ordeals in a gracious manner.

Wanting to keep a low profile, I shared my situation with only close friends who would support me with encouragement and prayer. I expected the surgery to cure the problem and I could sever my connection with cancer forever.

The cancer turned out to be advanced with lymph-node involvement. I would need chemotherapy, radiation and continued oral therapy—the whole package. This news unsettled me a bit, but I bounced back quickly. The same God who amazed the nurses with my swift recovery from surgery would take me through the rest of the program.

My oncologist’s report of possible side effects of chemotherapy caused another sobering moment. Maybe my ordeal wasn’t going to be as easy as I had thought. I tried to dismiss frightening words such as leukemia and death. These were rare exceptions, not to be expected. Focusing on faith, I purchased a wig to prepare for the inevitable loss of hair.

In less dramatic fashion, though, I continued to dwell on the good and bad effects of chemotherapy. How could I separate the two? As I pondered the question, a Scripture verse came to my mind. Personalizing Jeremiah 29:11 (KJV) created a pact between God and me. “I know the thoughts that I think toward [Esther Bailey], saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give [her] an expected end.”

What a concept! God could direct my body to use the good part of the chemicals and discard the bad. I got more excited every time I repeated the verse, which was often. During infusions, I pictured God performing a chemical miracle.

The personal message I received from Scripture aroused music in my soul. I arranged the words in lyrical style: “ ‘My plans for you are not for harm,’ / Says the Lord, Almighty God. / ‘My plans for you are for your good / To give you hope eternally.’ ” With a bit of adaptation, I sang the words to the tune of “Emmanuel” (1976 C.A. Music, W/M Bob McGee).

Through eight sessions of chemotherapy, my heart continued to sing the promise of Scripture. I didn’t even experience the common unpleasant side effects. “You make this seem so easy,” a nurse once said to me.

The oncologist said, “You have gone through this graciously.” I was glad to tell him that prayer and faith made the difference.

All through radiation, I continued to claim Jeremiah 29:11. I pictured myself receiving the greatest value and the least damage from the treatment. Tamoxifen, the drug that reduces the risk of recurring cancer by 50 percent, also has possible adverse side effects. For five years, though, the benefits outweigh the risks; so Jeremiah 29:11 will be my long-term companion. I believe any medical risks can be reduced by relying on God’s promise.

Good things have happened to me as a direct result of cancer. Not only was my own faith strengthened, others began to realize the value of a relationship with God. Attitudes changed from tolerating me as a “religious freak” to seeking information about the Christian lifestyle. My testimony helped others deal with cancer. As my influence for good increased, I began to understand James 1:2 (KJV): “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations.”

I don’t take a smug attitude about what faith did for me. In fact, I marvel at my experience with true humility. Faith does not guarantee that I will be cancer-free for the rest of my life. People with far more faith than I lose their lives to cancer, but faith still makes a difference. The God they trust goes with them through the valley of death and ushers them into a better place.

Whatever challenge confronts me in the future, I can handle it with faith. For a while yet, I hope to exercise faith for living, but when the time comes, faith will take the sting out of death. Faith is good for living and faith is good for dying.

Esther M. Bailey lives in Scottsdale, Ariz.

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