For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.
Isaiah 41:13 (NIV)
I was still in bed the morning my world was turned upside down. I didn’t even feel the bed shake as my foundation began to crumble under me.
I had simply reached for my phone (a bad habit I’ve developed) as I was waking groggily next to my sound asleep boys. There was a missed call from my father from hours earlier, long before any of us were ever awake. I called him back, and it was then my ground began to shake. “The doctors think it’s cancer . . . Your mom.” The words tumbled in my brain like shoes in a dryer. Clumsy. Loud. Pounding. I finally found the words to respond, “Whose mom?” He confirmed it was my own.
What happened next was a blur. I numbly prepared breakfast for the boys, made a call to my husband, already on his way to work, to come home. I bolted for the hospital as soon as he returned, dread and prayer punctuating every thought as I got on the freeway, barely noticing the road in front of me.
My mom wasn’t supposed to be sick. She was supposed to be fine. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go. How do you follow a crumbling path — one that seemed solid the day before but now feels as though every step is precarious, weightless? I wasn’t a stranger to roads that forked in unexpected ways by any means. I wrote a book on the main detour my life had taken in the last decade, but this — this — knocked the breath out of me. How had I not seen this coming?
Life felt so cruel, but I knew God was close. So, I didn’t hesitate to whisper (maybe I yelled it a little) WHY? in His ear.
His silence was deafening, yet I knew He was there quietly working — in the elevator with nurses as I choked back sobs, in the hallways where I asked questions no one could answer, in my mind where I yearned for calm that glimmered but quickly faded. He was near, in every moment. The God of the universe draws near to the broken-hearted and crushed in spirit. Though I longed to find a way out of the pain I was in, I knew He was calling me to walk through it with Him by my side.
When we find ourselves on unexpected paths filled with soul-crushing pain, we throw up our hands. Fear holds us hostage as we try to make sense of it all. Our minds grapple while our hearts break. In my devastation, I asked a close friend what I should do. “Step up to the plate, darling. It’s time.” She knew that inside I was trying to find a way to escape it all — the pain, the hospital, the doctors with their kind eyes but grim prognosis.
But every time I passed through another set of swinging doors staring through tear-blurred eyes at the waxed floor in front of me, my mind wandered to the day before — when everything was normal, when cancer happened to other families, when joy still felt possible. Could I step up to this plate?
In that moment with my friend beside me, I felt Jesus nod within me. He had been with me and would continue to hold my hand as I walked to the plate doing what life required of me. Tearfully, I made the calls I needed to make. Strangers answered, and I accepted their words of comfort, finding solace in their own stories of grief. I wasn’t alone in my pain, even if it felt that way. I had hard conversations with doctors. I scheduled follow-up appointments and advocated for the best care. I stepped up because He held me up, even as I shook. It was the only way I survived.
We don’t have to put on a brave face and pretend to have it all together. In fact, if we wait to feel ready to walk on an uncertain path, we won’t ever take the first step. We can cry out to Him with every step and know that His hand grips ours. He goes before us, behind us, and next to us. We are hedged in His holy protection. When the road disappears ahead of us, we see that He is the way.
We can cry out to Him with every step and know that His hand grips ours. -@JenBabakhan: Click To Tweet Leave a Comment
Jen, thanks for this tiny push from a place of knowing–that first step can feel like a drop off a cliff.
So grateful for God’s safety net of grace.
And I love this: “We are hedged in His holy protection. When the road disappears ahead of us, we see that He is the way.”
I’m so grateful it resonated with you, Michele. Blessings to you!
Jen,
Life changes quickly. I know. This past weekend a friend was out eating with his wife. BAM he had a massive heart attack. Drove himself to ER about 20 miles away. Long story short he had second massive heart attack & died Tuesday morning around 9 am. No other health issues & he was just 82. That road disappeared quickly. Now the wife is left with her family to grieve the loss of a long love affair. I, too, have had detours & really bumpy roads. My aging dad was on hospice when we had to put him in alzheimer’s care at assisted living. The next day he went geriatric psych. Talk about an unknown. How do you deal with that? Like you I stepped up to the plate & had him hospitalized for 1 month in a geriatric psych unit.
Like you there were days I yelled at God why. Just take him if this is all that’s left. It was a long & arduous battle but we won & he was fine for about 1 year then it came back. This time God chose to take him. You just have to cling to God in these times. He is right there close to the broken hearted. All I know for sure is God was there gripping my trembling hand & crying eyes.
Blessings 🙂
Beth, I’m so sorry to hear of your friend’s loss and your own of your father. Life is full of the unexpected indeed. May you continue to feel His presence! Blessings to you!
Thank you for sharing your story my heart goes out to you to do with your Mum. I so glad you never took your eyes of Jesus through it all. I lost my Mum a years a go in January this year. I don’t know if she was saved. I did pray for salvation. But God helped me get through her being in Hospital I’ll. It was not Cancer she had. I look at things this way. If a person we love is saved and dies of an illness. That God nor God uses the Doctors to heal. We have not lost all. Yes we will miss them this side of earth. But we can still be happy in one way. As they are with Jesus. No more sickness or pain. But bran new bodies. We that are saved will go to be with Jesus will see them again. What a glorious day that will be. They will be so glad too see us. We can give them a great big hug. But I do hope that for my Mum. As you could not tell her she need to get saved. I just pray she said the prayer before she passed away. When my time up on earth I will see her in Glory one day. Sickness like Cancer or any illness when Doctors tell you that your love one not going to get better not nice. But I glad we have Jesus to help us get through it. As it says in his word He will never leave us nor for sake us. And he never does. He sicks by us closer than a Brother or a Sister. My heart goes out to you my sister. Say a pray for you Love Dawn Ferguson-Little xxxx
Thank you so much, Dawn. I’m so sorry for the loss of your mother, and am touched by your words and your solid faith!
Your article brought tears to my eyes and refreshed memories. Not only did my Mom pass from cancer, but since her passing, I have been diagnosed twice. The good news is that I learned that when I step up to the plate, God is there guiding my swing with his arms around me.
Thank you for putting your experience on paper. I will be sharing this with a Woman’s Cancer Warrior Group that I lead.
Heidi, I’m so sorry to hear of your loss- but am so encouraged by your faith and strength in Christ through your own diagnosis’. May you feel His continued presence, and I’m praying this blesses your Warrior Group! Cheering you and all of the members on!
This is beautifully written, Jen. As the song says, we’re all just one phone call from our knees – the script we write for our life and the life of our family and friends is so easily erased.
I spent several years managing a large Neuro ICU in Northern California and would often bear witness to what you’re describing. Those numb and pain-riddled individuals who step to the plate and move decisions forward, even at the most vulnerable time of their lives. It has certainly put my pain and worry into perspective.
Thank you for sharing this intimate moment and bringing me back (as we face the awful “C” diagnosis yet again) to the hope that our crumbling road has a roadmap.
Thank you for the kind words, Catherine. Praying for you as you face your own difficult road. Blessings to you on the journey.
My heart goes out to you Jen, and your family. Thank you for sharing this beautiful testimony of awareness. An encouragement to all of us to step into moments we’d rather not face. Jesus carries us through… God bless you
Thank you so much, Jilliann. May God bless you, always!
My life took a crazy turn , my daughters lost their faith , they said they are fine without god and me they are in their 20,s maybe there is still hope for their hearts to change Philip.3:13 says forget the past move a head. This feels like a death of two people ive loved since birth.
Hi Maria, I’m so sorry for the painful time you are in with your daughters. There is always hope. Praying with you!