This is a guest post by my friend Marcia Gladwish who is battling stage 4 breast cancer. This is her artwork as well!
After two and one half months of chemo, one hopes to have progressed further, and I was disheartened by the news and began to cry a little with the doctor. “Why are you crying?” he asked softly. “I’m frustrated the tumor is essentially the same size.” (I look over at Alice, and she is trying not to cry. Well, OK, she is crying a bit.) My doctor is hopeful the tumor will be much more impacted by the pill, and he tries to convey this to me without promising anything.
I have nowhere to go but into the arms of Jesus – a place, really, I have been all along as His follower. It’s time to more completely settle in with Him in an even deeper way, a way I scarcely understand. I know I need to be more at home with Him than earth. I’m learning what that looks like.
Before my skeptical friends, who don’t quite buy this whole Jesus thing, say, “Aw, you poor thing, you need a crutch right now,” let me tell you as lovingly as I can, Jesus is not my crutch, my drug of choice, my cop out, my sedative, my new-age lavender dreamscape. He is just not.
Jesus really exists, and He is big and strong; He is really massive, and He proved that by dying on a lousy cross for each of us, so our darkness of heart and separation from God our Father, can be taken care of forever. So, don’t ever diminish Jesus as some lamb leading metro-guy who is without courage, enormous manly strength and pants. Plus, I want you to know that I know, He IS boundless love and compassion. He has shown me this over and over throughout my life. I am in those loving arms. I invite you there as well. Come to Jesus, the lover of your soul.