Even when life doesn’t go our way—when grief, illness, and hardship hit—we can still find blessings tucked into the struggle. This is my story of caregiving, loss, and a miracle in the middle of pain.
Recently, I saw all the things people are thankful for…
Well, we just celebrated Thanksgiving. I saw Facebook posts from people feeling blessed because they had a good vacation, spent time with family, enjoyed good health, had a good job, or owned nice things. That is wonderful. However, what about feeling blessed when things don’t exactly go your way?
A Rough Year
This past year was a rough one for me. My dad went to Heaven in February. The weeks before he died were difficult. I had to be the one to tell him that there wasn’t anything more that could be done. I had to be the one who said, “Yes, Dad, you are dying.” Shaking my head as I write this, I still can’t believe I had the strength to do that. It was God’s strength in me—not anything I mustered up, that’s for sure!
I feel blessed, though, because I was there when my mom asked my dad, “Where are you going when you die, Herb?” and with confidence, he pointed up toward Heaven. I will join him there. I miss him—but I will see Daddy again!
One Thing After Another
A few months after Dad died, my mom’s health began to deteriorate very quickly. Little did we know, she had a tumor growing on her spine. And wow, did I quickly learn just how important the spine is! That nasty tumor was pressing up against her nerves and took away the feeling in her legs. Her life was turned upside down even more, and she ended up in the hospital. That’s when we learned she had Non Hodgkin lymphoma.
BOOK RECOMMENDATION
One of my former pastors wrote this book. I highly recommend it! Click anywhere to read more!
Becoming Her Caregiver
To make a long story short, there was a good outcome in the end—but it was a long, hard road to get there. My whole life was turned around. I became my mom’s caregiver. I knew I had to be with her as much as possible. I had to be her advocate, her extra set of ears and eyes. She barely remembers those first couple of months. I had to make some really hard decisions. I can’t tell you how many times I had to confirm that yes, my mom had a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order—and if she went into cardiac arrest, she didn’t want CPR. Those were words I never wanted to say. Anyway, I’m rambling…
Where Is the Blessing?
Back to the subject—where is the blessing in all of this?
Well, for one, I knew I could talk to God. I knew I could count on Him. Most of all, I knew that although this was not what I wanted for my mom’s life—or mine—that it would all be okay. Whether she stayed here with us on this earth or went to Heaven, it would be okay.
Of course, I didn’t want her to have lymphoma. I wanted a complete healing. But I’ve come to understand that healing doesn’t always mean not dying. The ultimate healing can be her total restoration in Heaven. And I am so okay with that.
A Bone Marrow Biopsy and a Big Prayer
The biggest blessing that stands out to me is this:
Radiation took away the tumor. My mom survived 15 rounds of radiation, and it zapped that thing!
But there’s more. The blessing on top of the biggest blessings is this: After her radiation ended, her white cell count was off. The doctors were concerned that cancer could be in her bone marrow, so they ordered a bone marrow biopsy. When I heard that, I cringed. I remembered my husband having one—and my father-in-law. They both said it was the most painful thing they’d ever gone through in their lives. (Well, they’ve never gone through childbirth—I wonder which is worse!)
Anyway, we agreed to go ahead with it. My mom trusted my decisions but didn’t know what I knew about the pain.
The Hallway I’ll Never Forget
We rolled down to the place where it would be done. I was so anxious, but I kept praying. Funny thing is, I was praying more that Mom wouldn’t feel pain than I was about the results. We had become familiar with the people there, and that brought some comfort. I ran into a friend from my old church and asked her to pray. I knew she understood. The technician, Bob, who had helped with other procedures, was also there and helped lighten the mood. They took Mom in.
I walked way down the hall—I had a feeling I’d hear her cry out, and I just couldn’t take that. I’d already heard too much of it. It is heart wrenching and I went into self-preservation mode. I stood alone in that long hallway—just like in a movie—with my hands clenched tightly in prayer. Maybe I thought if I clenched them tighter, the prayer would be more effective. I watched the door to the room she was in. It had a “Radiation in Progress” sign, and every once in a while, the red light above it would flicker on. I talked to God a lot during that time. It felt like forever. I even paced the hallway. It was so strange—it was mostly just me there. I felt so alone… but I wasn’t.
The Miracle
My mom probably doesn’t remember any of this. She doesn’t remember much from those first few weeks after her diagnosis. But I want her to know—she isn’t just lucky. No luck in this.
She is blessed.
And most of all, I am blessed.
I’m not blessed because I got a new car, or a promotion, or because I have nice clothes. I’m blessed because God answered my prayer.
My mom felt absolutely nothing during that bone marrow biopsy.
Nothing.
She never cried out—because she never felt any pain.
That, to me, is a miracle.
Oh—and the results? Yes, there were signs of cancer, but they were insignificant. In fact, the doctors said cancer would not be the cause of her death when her time comes.
Final Thoughts
I guess what I want to say is this:
It’s easy to feel blessed when things are going our way. It’s easy when there’s no opposition. But life doesn’t always go our way. It can really be sucky—sometimes for a long time.
This year was sucky for me. A lot happened—and is still happening—that just goes against my grain.
I will never minimize someone’s suffering by saying, “You need to find the blessing in this.” But I will say this: it sure does help to look for the blessings. To find them.
When people say they don’t believe in God because they can’t see Him—I get that. But I don’t have to see Him. I know He’s there. I’ve seen the evidence of His presence.
This is what faith and trust in God look like.
He has His way of revealing Himself.
I don’t have to see Him to believe in Him.
He made that possible.