Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope…(Romans 5:3-4 ESV)
The past ten years of my life have taught me that personal suffering and the challenges and trials of life, difficult though they are, offer an opportunity to grow profoundly in knowledge and love of the Lord. I made reference to this correlation between affliction and spiritual growth in my first post in this series.
So that is why, after having been warned in January by my doctors that my radiation and chemotherapy treatments would be grueling, I prayed to the Lord, “Please don’t let me go through these treatments without learning what you want me to learn from this experience.” How wasteful, it seemed to me, to let suffering go unredeemed, to miss an opportunity to discover something about the Lord and myself in relation to him.
A patient being prepped for the Tomo radiation machine
Of course I was wishing that I didn’t have to undergo those treatments. I began them with great reluctance, not knowing if I would regain what I was about to lose: the hair across the back of my head, my ability to taste, a degree of hearing in my right ear – and, I had to live with the possibility that the radiation, in particular, might cause permanent damage to my jaw, neck or brain stem in some way. The radiation oncologist made no promises about my hair, taste or hearing returning: “Probably, but we can’t be sure.” As for the more serious consequences: “Not likely, but sometimes it happens.” So with no guarantees, except for the statistic that my chances for a recurrence of the cancer were much greater without treatment, I began the seven-week program. Continue reading
I was eager to get out my calendar and begin crossing off each day of treatment. I wanted to watch the days go by until there were no more to cross off. I scanned the calendar and circled a date in late February. It couldn’t get here fast enough, as far as I was concerned.
Like me, many people going through a difficult time long for it to be over sooner rather than later. A day can seem to last a month when one is ill, or grieving or anxious. And each new day can seem to be as unappealing as the day before, because it appears to hold nothing new or exciting – no chance that circumstances will change for the better any time soon. But Scripture calls us to view such days 
The transport specialist who was moving me said, “Your room is straight ahead,” and as I looked up I saw a man whom I didn’t recognize sitting in a visitor’s chair. “Oh, that can’t be my room,” I said, “that man is not my husband.” But I was wheeled-in anyway. As I took note of the room I discovered that there was a curtain on the far side of my bed and that the room was deeper than I first realized. Then it dawned on me: on the other side of the curtain was another bed – and the man sitting in the chair was there to see my roommate. My heart sank.
Careful For Nothing 