|Robert, my daddy!|
This is probably the hardest post I have ever written. I have deliberated over it for weeks now. My writing promises not to be award-winning, but the content is what is making it so difficult for me to articulate because...my father has cancer.
I have heard the stories; the stories of overcomers, the stories of quick, painful battles that end in defeat, the stories of long, drawn-out journeys and even stories of complete, miraculous healing. But, all those stories seem to fade away a little bit when cancer invades your own family. It is when it gets a little too close, a little too personal, that it can feel like a surprise and very unwelcome visitor.
A few months ago, my dad emailed to say that he wanted to talk over Skype. It wasn't a "hey, let me see those three crazy kids" or "I want catch up on each other's lives" kind of request. Even over emails, tones are unwittingly conveyed. I knew something was wrong.
We were planning to take our friends swimming that morning, so between getting out of the door, driving to their house, and trying to load up the van we were borrowing, I remembered that I promised to call. I asked to use our friends' Internet, and I set up the Skype to confirm my growing concern...that something really was wrong; but, I had to hear his voice to confirm it.
I tried to call, but couldn't get through. Plan B: call my sister, Shannon. I got through to her and she felt so bad to be breaking the news to me rather than Dad being able to tell me himself. But, why let one more day go by without knowing this was going on?
She broke the news: cancer of the throat. A tumor starting to grow and at a rapid speed. My Dad in was in a tough spot, too, because of a lack of health insurance. All his life, he's been fit as a fiddle. Except for an emergency appendicitis during my grade school years and the occasional cold virus, my dad never really needed to have constant checkups. But, boy, when something like this happens, all of that seems to disappear. I can imagine that it feels like falling without a safety net. That must feel terrifying.
So, after I said goodbye to her and promised to pray, I broke the news to Treavor. Tears. Oh, the tears! We went ahead with our trip, but as we made the long drive to the swimming hole, our van full of friends and family started to intercede. We prayed for him and for our extended family as we absorb the shock and beginnings of preparations for the healing/fighting process. What else can you do in a situation like this, but pray to the Healer for help? After all, He made us. He knows how to fix us, and He wants to!
And since that first day of knowing, I feel like all can do is ask. I am not a talented surgeon, a skilled radiologist, a wealthy person who could pay for all the bills, or even a present person who even lives in the same country as my daddy. But, I can ask. I must ask. Surely, He hears me and wants His Kingdom of healing and wholeness to come onto earth as it is in Heaven! It is all I can do; stand and fight in the spirit.
Would you stand with me? Would you intercede for my father's healing as well as for a nearness to the Heavenly Father through this battle with cancer? Thank you for believing with us for a miracle!