I started reading “Its not about the bike” by Lance Armstrong tonight. The only words I can form are “wow”. I, first of all, had no idea that he had brain cancer- I knew he had testicular cancer, but I never knew he had brain cancer.
I tend to have a problem reading books from the begining. I start by thumbing through and try to get a feel for the book, reading the chapter titles etc.
Chapter 5: Conversations with Cancer literally leaped off the page. The below excerpt brought tears to my eyes. Tears of strength and determination.
There was a dis-quieting intimacy to the idea that something uninvited was living inside my head. When something climbs straight into your mind, thats way personal. I decided t get personal right back, and I started engaging in an inner conversation with it (cancer). I tried to be firm in my discussions. “You picked the wrong guy” I told it.
I laughed, because I literally had almost the same exact conversation with my tumor on April 14th. I thought it was odd that I actually talked to this thing, speaking directly to it.
He later wrote something on belief that caused me to almost stand up in my living room and cheer:
I know this much: I believed in belief, for its own shining sake. To believe in the face of utter hopelessness, every article of evidence to the contrary, to ignore apparent catastrophe- what other choice was there?
So I believed.
I am not sure if Lance and I share the same reason for belief, but the underlying belly of our determination is the same.
Whether that be 20 more years, or complete healing tomorrow. This isn’t about a diagnosis, this isn’t about the hardships I and my family are facing. This is 110% about God and His sovereign provision. This is about his undying and unconditional love for his children. This is about being completely dependent on Him.
Its about belief. Belief in His promises, not just in what he can provide. Belief in his presence, not just in his provisions. Belief in his sovereignty, amidst all of the questions of why.
God is not in the business of concerning himself with only our physical needs. This is so much more than that. He is so much bigger than that.
I am not a “name it, claim it” kind of gal- but I do believe that Christ has given me the power to tell this mountain to move. I believe that he has given me the authority to battle this not only in a physical sense of the word, but spiritually also.
Whether this tumor is here next month, or next year, this battle is not only about the flesh. It is about the soul.
It will not steal my joy. It will not rob me of my love for my Savior. It may bring me to my knees, but it will not bury my hope.
It picked the wrong girl.
With all this going for us, my dear, dear friends, stand your ground. And don’t hold back. Throw yourselves into the work of the Master, confident that nothing you do for him is a waste of time or effort. -1 Corinthians 15:58
I cling to that. The pain and suffering I have experienced this last week is not a waste. The knowledge that I have a brain tumor is not a waste. These things have brought me so much closer to my Savior…
And that is what it is all about.