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A Cancer Story: Feeling Vulnerable

I came home from the hospital forty pounds lighter than when I was diagnosed. Mind you, I was never a big guy to start with. My weight loss was all too obvious. I was a sliver of my former self. And weak. So weak. I could barely walk from the car into the house.

The word for the next several months would be VULNERABLE. Suddenly, I had been removed from the safety of the hospital. I was sent home with this ileostomy that needed to be cared for, a bag that needed to be emptied several times a day. I still had terrible stomach cramps and wobbly legs. And there was still the fear (though not a very realistic one) that my incision would bust open and my intestines would unwind like a spring and decorate the floor.

But the most vulnerability had to do with my inability to protect my family. I was helpless and would kid with my wife about being a pencil-necked weakling. If anything happened, an emergency, a break-in, whatever, I would be as helpful as a bag of sand. Correction, a half-full bag of sand. That scared me. As a man, I’m my family’s protector, but now the protector was the one needing the protecting. A tough pill to swallow for sure.

I was forced to put my total trust in God to be my family’s protector. He was all we had. For most of our life the trust we put in God is volitional, we choose to rely on Him or not to. It’s our call. But then there are those times when we really don’t have a choice. We’re backed into a corner and there’s no where to turn but toward Him. He’s it.

And you know what? That’s not a bad place to be. In fact, it’s the way it should be. All the time.

Was there a time when you were backed in to a corner and felt totally helpless? How did you react?

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