On Death and Dying

I’ve said before that I’m not afraid of death. But I am afraid of dying, of the pain and suffering that surely accompany it. It’s all hypothetical for me because I have never been able to find out what actually happens to a person when they die of cancer. I think I agree with the saying, “The devil you know is better than the one you don’t.” But no one has ever gone there with me. Maybe that’s because it’s different for every cancer and every person. Or maybe people are trying to shield me or just don’t want to talk about dying. I get it.

So I don't talk about dying and I mostly don’t think about dying. I'm still feeling good, for the most part. And if I cover my eyes and stick my fingers in my ears while singing loudly, death will never find me, right? It’s worked pretty well so far. Sure, people in my online cancer support groups have died. Metastatic breast cancer IS terminal. But I’ve never met these women, don’t know them personally. I am saddened by their deaths and angry that cancer took even one more life. I shake my fist at it. But it still feels surreal.

But last week someone here in my own small town, someone I used to go to church with, whose house I used to walk my dog past, whose story I had been following because she too was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer – and we’re almost the same age – she died. She died. Cancer came and took her life.

Like I said earlier, I know that cancer kills. I can give you names of those lost. But it’s seemed so very hazy to me, like a campaign promise – real in theory, unlikely in reality. But someone I know just died. From cancer. Just a few months ago, I saw her at the cancer center; she was finishing up her scans and I was waiting to be called back. And now she’s gone.

*To all of you who were her friends, please forgive me for talking about her death and especially how it's affected me. I don't want to diminish her life in any way or use it to get attention for myself. I'm just trying to share what things are like in this life I live.*

For some reason, her death makes my own death seem more real now, too. Closer. Or at least my own dying. How long does it even take to die from cancer? On the one hand, I bet it's much too fast. But on the other, I bet it's much too slow. Too long to see your loved one suffering. Not long enough to make all the memories you had hoped to make.

I pray I’ll have courage to face it with grace. To continue my race and finish strong. But my faith falters and I fear. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

God has brought me through so much more than I ever would have dreamed possible – and yet my weak faith somehow pictures the future without His strength, without His supernatural intervention. This weekend, God used a friend to call me out on this. She didn't even know I was struggling with this, but God did. She sent me these words from Jesus Calling: “When I gave you My Spirit, I empowered you to live beyond your natural ability and strength. That’s why it’s so wrong to measure your energy level against the challenges ahead of you. The issue is not your strength, but Mine, which is limitless. By walking close to Me, you can accomplish My purposes in My strength.”

God has always been faithful to carry me through whatever comes my way. He’s not suddenly going to change His ways; He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. When I imagine my future and think only of the pain, I'm essentially picturing a future without Christ in it. When has He ever left me on my own to face a single thing? When has His grace not been enough for what I'm facing? Never!

Oh me of little faith! Oh for grace to trust Him more! And yet I am reminded that even Jesus didn't want to die. Even the omniscient God who knows the beginning and the end, who knew all the good that would come from His death and that He wouldn't even stay dead - He didn't want to die either. He wasn't jumping up and down, excited to head to the cross. He asked His Father to make another way. I take comfort in this. No matter what I face, what any of us face, we are not alone. There is Someone who already went through all this and Who knows exactly how we feel. While I do want more faith to face this with grace, I'm thankful to know He understands.