A few things are on my mind this morning:
Wednesday we meet with the oncologist for a consultation regarding my upcoming radiation treatments. They say we have an hour and that’s good, because we have about an hour’s worth of questions. Something about radiation just gives me the creeps. Am I gonna be, like, radiaoactive? Am I gonna have to walk around with one of those little radioactive material symbols plastered on my forehead? Will I glow? Seriously, Jen and I know next to nothing about radiation treatments and have a ton of questions about possible side effects both short-term and long-term. I mean, doesn’t radiation cause cancer? I’m thinking Chernobyl.
Yesterday, at church a young boy stopped in the hall, tugged on my coat and said, “Mr. Mike, I hope your cancer is feeling better.” It reminded me of how many people are praying for us. People I consider like family, friends, and friends of friends, and people I’ve never met and will never meet. Everyday I receive emails from faceless names beginning with, “You don’t know me but . . .” It reminded me that we’re not alone in this valley; we have a support group the size of a small army lifting us up, petitioning on our behalf.
Last night, Jen read to me Isaiah 12. Verse 2 says, Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The LORD, the LORD is my strength and my song.
Chapter 12 is a song of praise, not for what God has done, but for what He will do. It is a song of hope, of promise, of expectancy. God is my salvation, my strength, and my song (and believe me, only God appreciates my singing). I can trust in Him and not be afraid. The only question now is, do I believe this?