It was a chilly spring morning like many others.
My phone rang, and on the other end was the nurse who had recently examined me and removed a suspicious-looking mole from my right leg. Suddenly my whole world changed with one word: cancer.
I would never be the same.
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Questions raced through my mind. How could this happen? I was just 43 years old, and my life could end. Would I be snuffed out like a low-burning candle, never again to herald the Good News to the nations?
That week, I heard God’s voice. It was that still, small voice, the one that originates inside our redeemed human spirit. It flashed through my mind as a flood of thoughts, carrying the Father’s authority and love.
“The enemy is trying to kill you before your time,” He said. “You must be as aggressive in fighting him as he is in fighting you.”
Two weeks later I endured my first major operation. Yes, they found the deadly cancer had spread into my lymph nodes. I was diagnosed with melanoma, Stage 3b, and absolutely needed drug treatments to survive (save from a healing miracle that God could send). I prayed and many people prayed for that miracle, which eventually came, though not in the timing nor the way I was expecting it.
I remember trembling in fear as I left he doctor’s office. I stood alone, feeling the weight of now having to embark on a journey I had never imagined.
Major operations, very difficult treatments and a grim diagnosis were all placed before me. I felt weak. As Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “I was with you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling” (1 Cor. 2:3, MEV).
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