A few weeks ago, we heard the words you never want to hear. You have cancer. Kedron was diagnosed with pappilary thyroid cancer. Thankfully, this is a treatable form of cancer. The doctor looked him in the eyes and said, “We fully expect to cure you.” But it still is cancer. It still changes your life.
One week from today he will have surgery to remove his thyroid. He may or may not need a couple days of radiation a few weeks after surgery. He will, however, from then forward be on thyroid replacement medication.
The past few weeks have been a blur as we’ve adjusted to the news, prayed about how to talk to the kids, and re-arranged our lives while waiting for surgery and recovery.
We’ve heard a lot of stories of others who have been through this. We’ve been overwhelmed by the care and concern of our community both near and far. We’ve also been overwhelmed by the responses we’ve received both helpful and not.
What else is there to say? When you realize that cancer has taken up residence in your home, when you realize it has eaten dinner with you, silently slept in your home, and traveled with you for who knows how long – it turns your world upside down and shakes it out.
You stare down the frailty of life and realize no one is immune. No one.
The question is, what will you do with your frailty? Will you face it in fear? Or will you face it with a foundation of faith?
Will you face it with a faith in a God who still loves you and holds you when things are rotten? Will you still believe that He walks with you, even in the dark, even in the shadows, even in the depths of whatever it is you must go through?
This is the lesson I’m learning through these days:
The faith you cultivate in the ordinary events of your life bears fruit during life’s famines.
Sooner or later disease, cancer, conflict, wayward children or spouses, or many other forms of pestilence will threaten to destroy you, and seek to starve your faith and hope. May you instead feast off the fruit produced by the Spirit that was planted and grown in a life of quiet faithfulness in the ordinary seasons of life.
Famine comes sooner or later. It doesn’t need to destroy you.
May you feast in the famine. Plant your seeds now.
Thank you for your prayers and concern for Kedron and our family. We are doing well, and we are being well-cared for.
*photo by Kedron Rhodes. Text by Amelia Rhodes.