Whose Report Shall You Believe?

by Linda Van Fleet

"Mom, I have ovarian cancer. I'm going to die!" The person on the other end of the phone was incoherent; sobbing brokenly as the words squeaked out in a high pitched mournful, wailing screech. It was my daughter though I hardly recognized her voice.

Her words wrenched my heart like a jagged knife. I covered my mouth to hide the gasp that erupted from my soul. The world stopped; my heart froze. "No!" I whispered in disbelief, my head screaming "Not my little girl! No! Please God! Not my little girl."

When my daughter called me at work that day, just two days before Thanksgiving I felt absolutely helpless. I fought to hold back my tears. I couldn't cry; it wouldn't help Michelle. I had to be strong. I began to pray silently as I spoke words of faith and comfort to her and within a few minutes she had calmed down.

Though I was able to speak words of faith and hope to Michelle, the battle of doubt and fear raging in my own heart was horrendous. I had spent two days in frenzied research of female-related cancers since her family doctor had made an immediate appointment for her to see the Gynecological Oncologist when she had visited him for what seemed like a totally unrelated problem. Ovarian Cancer can be deadly if not caught in time, and in most cases it is not caught in time because there are no early symptoms. Looking back, Michelle had a few symptoms but never enough to cause concern until a couple of weeks prior to this; a colon problem caused me to insist she go to the doctor without delay. Her paternal grandmother had died of colon cancer and I thought Michelle should get a checkup.

Now the Oncologist had confirmed our worst fears. He scheduled her for immediate surgery as he said the cancer was growing fast and any kind of delay could mean the difference in life and death.

That night as I drove home from work, turning down the narrow graveled road that leads to my house, I banged the steering wheel in despair, still fighting back the tears because I had to see to drive. "Oh God!" I cried in desperation, "Don't let my little girl die! Please don't let her die! Please let her live to raise her own baby girl. Please, God! Don't let my baby die!" In my mind's eye I saw visions of my precious little two-year-old granddaughter losing her Mommy and I shook my head angrily to drive the vision away. "No!" I said forcefully, and then started pleading with God again to spare my daughter.

"Things are not what they seem," a small insistent voice penetrated my fear-clouded mind. "Do not worry. Things are not what they seem."

I recognized the voice of the Lord within my spirit. "Lord, are you sure?" I whispered back. Then I chuckled. Imagine asking the Lord who knows all, sees all, is all - "are you sure?"

Peace flooded my heart as I yielded to the comfort of the Holy Spirit and allowed my faith to take wing. God created Michelle, formed her in my womb, and knew her name even before he created the foundations of the world. He has kept her all these forty-two years. He can take care of this problem, too. "I give her you," I whispered, as I had done so many times before. "Please take care of my little girl." (Yes, I know. She is forty-two years old; but she will always be my little girl.)

Michelle's cancer was in Stage 3c, but was not malignant and had not invaded any of her vital organs. Although the Oncologist wanted to start chemotherapy immediately (just to be safe), Michelle felt strongly she should get another opinion. Two other doctors and the pathologist concurred that she could wait and give her immune system the opportunity to fight any residual of the disease. She is still under very careful supervision of her physicians as she endeavors to build up her immune system to fight the cancer naturally, without chemotherapy. We believe God has healed her. The doctors are amazed at how quickly she has progressed; amazed the cancer was not malignant, though it had spread outside the ovaries throughout the omentum; amazed it had not reached other vital organs in the stage it was in.

We are not amazed because we know what God can do. We are simply thankful, so very thankful. Our amazement is that God is so full of love for us. Our amazement is at his wonderful grace.

I keep remembering the word of the Lord in my spirit that day, "Don't worry. Things are not what they seem" and it reminds me of a song I heard a few years ago, "Whose report shall you believe? We shall believe the report of the Lord!" God, the great and wonderful healer has visited my daughter and his report is what we choose to believe.