Saying Goodbye Is Never An Easy Thing

I'm going to die.  Oh no:  not today and probably not tomorrow but then again, who knows?  Not me.  

I thought I was ready for this day and was even looking forward to it.  Then, I got this report that made me wonder if my time to leave here could potentially be sooner than I expected.  So I began to wonder, to ponder, and to reconcile within myself all the things I've done, want to do, and hope to do before the moment of death takes me from this life onto the next.

I used to think I didn't want a funeral because I honestly didn't think anyone would show up.  But now, as I think about my final… performance?  No, that's not the right word.  Hmn.  My last words?  No, that doesn't work either since I will already be gone.  Although others may have a few words (hopefully nice ones) to say on my behalf to tell of all of my wonders and what a great person I was (cough!), that's still not quite the right thing I want to express.  I've got it!  My final farewell.  All the things others want to remember about me and all the things I hope that they will reminisce over when my days on this earth come to their end are what have been running through my mind.

You know that Tim McGraw song "Live Like You Were Dying" and the things his dad wanted to do before death knocked on his door?  Well, I have always wanted to fly so I guess skydiving would be on my bucket list too.  Rocky Mountain climbing?  No, but I wouldn't mind seeing the coast of Maine in the fall.  I most certainly have no desire to ride ol' Foo Man Choo!  Yeah, I'd love to love deeper, speak sweeter, but forgiveness I've been denying?  I honestly think I am good with that.  Oh sure, there are some wrongs done to me that I'd love to talk over with the ones who hurt me but I don't hold that against them anymore.  It was another power at work, seeking to steal, kill, and destroy and it was successful on too many occasions but I see it now for what it really was.

I started this blog off with the words "I'm going to die" and that may cause some of you to wonder what's wrong with me.  Well, I'll tell you.  It's that dreaded "c" word:  cancer.  Basal and Squamous Cell cancers have once again penetrated my skin and in less than two weeks, I get to have Mohs Surgery on three places on my face.  Again.  For you see, I've already had one of these types of surgery before on my left side of my face.  I joke with people about my scar, telling them I was in a knife fight but that I won.  But now I'm not laughing.  I'm scared.  I fear that the two places on my forehead are really just a part of a series of cancers that are connected and will need radical treatment.  I fear that because they are closer to my tiny little brain that they may have already started their descent into it and prepared to take over. The one on my nose?  Well, it's been treated many times before as well.  For about as long as I can remember, I was dubbed "Rudolph" because I too had a very shiny, red nose that was constantly sunburnt and blistered.

Many will tell me that this surgery is no big deal and that it is quite successful in removing these hateful beasts--and they would be right.  I've done my homework and researched the facts.  But that doesn't still the fatalist spirit in my heart that this time it's gonna be worse than the first Mohs done, that these scars will run deeper than the superficial.  I know that most of this attitude comes from the whispers of the devil and how he's just trying to get me to focus on the lies rather than the knowledge of how far medical science has come.  For when he does that, my eyes aren't on Christ, the Great Physician.  My heart isn't comforted by His Words and Promises when I let the fears take over.  My peace is shattered when I allow the thoughts of my dear sister dying from melanoma seven years ago to permeate into my mind and though I know this cancer isn't as severe, it all starts somewhere, right?  

Sigh.  There's a song I love called "In The Light" by dc Talk.  My favorite lines in it go like this:

The disease of self runs through my blood

It's a cancer fatal to my soul

Every attempt on my behalf has failed

To bring this sickness under control

I wanna be in the Light

As You are in the Light

I wanna shine like the stars in the heavens

Oh, Lord be my Light and be my salvation

'Cause all I want is to be in the Light

All I want is to be in the Light

Friends, I don't know the future and what will be the deciding factor that takes my life from me.  I know that I am saved, that I have a better home awaiting, and that without Jesus Christ I have no hope.  With Him, though, I have so many wondrous hopes, so much love, and a confidence that I am a winner either way and when He calls me home, it will be for good.  So, when you pray for me--and I am expecting that you will!!--don't pray for healing or for divine intervention.  The path has already been planned out for me so what I ask is this:  when you do pray for me--and again, I expect you to!!--pray that whatever time I have on this earth is spent bring glory and honor to God.  My life is to be about Him, not about Stef.  Whether that's a couple of months or years on down the road (personally, my preference is to go in the Rapture with the rest of you and be done with this hurtful world), my sincere desire is that through my life you will see Jesus shining.

So, in conclusion, what do I want on my tombstone?  Loosed.  Freed. Redeemed. Completed.

Let's pray!

Dear God, I feel better already!  When I take the time to work through my fears, I see that You have me.  You have already loosened me from the grip of sin.  You have freed my soul from the condemnation of the wicked one.  You have through Your precious Son Jesus redeemed me and claimed me as Your child.  And when my last breath is breathed, I will be completed, my race over, the victory mine.  Through Jesus You have made this all possible and Lord God?  I thank You with all of my heart.

Now, Father, we both know I am going to relapse and the darkness of the night will try to let the demons of the fear of the unknown attack me.  When I am afraid, Lord, may I trust in You?  When I am scared, will You hold my hand?  And when the emotions tumble out as I fret over what all I have left to do and is there time, remind me that regardless of cancers or any other life-stealing device, I am Yours and my life here is only over when You say so.   And while I have breath, I am going to praise You, Lord!  Hallelujah!