The past few months have included a remarkably high number of my friends, family and church members discovering they have cancer. It’s been dramatically more than what I’ve encountered in the past decade of pastoral ministry. So the other day when someone opened a conversation with “I have something I want to talk to you about” I could feel myself bracing in expectation of the dreaded “c” word.
It’s been more than 20 years since I lost my father to cancer but I clearly remember the fear, pain, uncertainty, bombardment of information, and flood of opinions on treatments that amplified the storm of that devastating diagnosis.
But would you believe me if I also shared there were blessings discovered during that difficult time? Perhaps you’ve also seen something good happen in the midst of something terribly hard.
I know a few who have. Theresa C. was sitting alone in a hospital parking lot when she opened the results of her colonoscopy and learned she had cancer. She was 49. Her treatment was extensive. She underwent a hysterectomy and permanent colostomy, followed by chemotherapy and 28 rounds of radiation. But something unexpected happened during her recovery. A year after her diagnosis, Theresa began volunteering at the same Clinic where she had received treatment. She became a hospital ambassador, helping patients and families navigate the place that had once been unfamiliar and frightening to her. Looking back, she said cancer had taught her empathy, understanding, compassion and patience. She became more grateful for her life and closer to her husband, children and family. Her suffering opened her eyes to gifts she might otherwise have overlooked—and eventually gave her an opportunity to become a gift to other people.
This is one of the strange paradoxes of suffering: sometimes we don’t recognize the value of ordinary life until something threatens to take it away. A conversation with your spouse can feel sacred. A meal around the table can become something to treasure. A walk outside can become an occasion for gratitude. Cancer doesn’t create those gifts but it can reveal them.
Paul writes: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him.” (Romans 8:28) That verse does not say that all things are good, but that God can work in and through even horrible experiences. I do not believe God gives anyone cancer as punishment or to refine their character. When Jesus’ disciples asked whether a man’s suffering resulted from someone’s sin, Jesus rejected their assumption. Instead Scripture identifies the Enemy at work in this broken world who seeks our disillusionment, despair and destruction.
Researchers use terms such as post-traumatic growth, benefit-finding, and meaning-making to describe positive psychological changes that sometimes occur after people experience serious illness or trauma. That suggests something hopeful: people can discover ways to grow in the middle of experiences they would never have chosen. Positive growth and suffering can exist simultaneously.
For Christians, there is something more. Perhaps one of the most powerful things faith can do is change the question. At first, the question may be: “Why is this happening to me?” But over time, another question can emerge: “God, what should I do with this life now?” “How can I live faithfully in the middle of what has happened?” Those questions move from seeking explanation toward exploring meaning. From losing control toward choosing trust. That may not eliminate fear or make chemotherapy easier but it can positively shift one’s perspective.
A life threatening illness can also help us redefine miracles. We often think of a miracle as a scan coming back clear. But there are other miracles worth recognizing too. greater courage. Deeper faith. A grudge released. A relationship restored.
Faith can lead to spiritual healing when it makes room for lament and seeks peace amid uncertainty. When it invites others in to shoulder the load, and welcomes hard questions such as: What really matters? What am I doing with my limited time?What do I need to forgive? Who do I need to tell that I love them?
Perhaps the most grounding truth in Christianity is that we have a God who weeps at the gravesite (John 11:35). He didn’t stand beside mourners and say, “Cheer up! This is actually a blessing.” He enters our sorrow. And He willingly faced the worst suffering imaginable. Christian hope is based on the conviction that God can be present in suffering and can bring redemption and justice from the most unfair situations.
So if you’re in that boat of hearing from a loved one they have cancer or some other concerning disease, try being the one to say: “ I may not have answers for you but I’m here for you and I believe God is herewith you too.” Be like the Saviour who did not stand at a safe distance from human pain.