“Really? Do you really believe that I hear and answer your prayers?”
As I drove home from a recent Saturday evening Gathering for prayer and preparation for the Lord’s Day, the Holy Spirit spoke this question loud and clear into my heart. At the Gathering, my grandsons had been sharing 1 John 5:11-15, memory verses for their work as camp staff this summer.[1] What I couldn’t get out of my mind as I left for home was verse 15, “And if we know that He hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests which we have asked from Him.”
When I answered the Lord, “Sure,” then the second question came, “Then why do you ‘hedge your bets’ when you ask me for my help?” …the pleading tone …the sighing Amen — hiding the thought, “But I can’t KNOW you’ll do this. It’s just too fantastic and impossible to imagine You would ever care to make that part of your plan.”
As I went to bed that night, I had to pray, “Lord, I believe with my head and lifelong commitments, but my heart is holding back. Help me to believe you with a knowing heart, a heart totally, unreservedly convinced that you are hearing and answering my prayers.[2]
That was April 26 and I had six more radiation treatments before the prescribed therapy for prostate cancer was completed. Over those next 8 days, God began to show me specifically how he had been hearing and answering many of my prayers, in order to strengthen my belief in him for those bigger things that seem so impossible.
Sometimes victory is in that next step beyond where you don’t think you have anything more to give.[3]
“No worries, that’s the good cancer,” was the type of comment I heard often when I finally mustered up courage to share. In the Mayo Clinic online support group, a member described his experience in light of that response as a “silent apocalypse”—feeling as if others didn’t understand the threat to his life and male identity that he felt so deeply.
My 7-month journey thus far with prostate cancer might also have been a lonely one, but for God. I have met understanding, kindness, and patience from others – knowing it was the Good Shepherd making me to “lie down in green pastures,” and “leading me beside still waters.” [4]
And once again laying down for the last time on the radiation table, listening to the soft jazz in the background and observing as I had so often the soft green and blue recessed lighting, I began to rehearse the long list of ways that God had met my needs and led me to lay down there in green pastures beside still waters.
Someone asked me how I was doing as I headed into my last, 45th radiation treatment this past Monday. I said, “Both/and. I’m feeling beat down physically but spiritually tasting the goodness of God.” Yes, there’s been both embarrassment, and kind respect; both joy, and sorrow; both pain, and relief; both physical challenge, and spiritual supply.
“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways” [5]
The radiation therapists I learned to know and love laughed, when I told them I was thinking about calling this post by the title, “Bare Bottoms and Loin Cloths.”
You may laugh also, but believe me it doesn’t feel like a laughing matter when you totter out of the pre-radiation outpatient surgery, with a catheter hanging out of you know where, into a full waiting room of people waiting their turn for the torture chamber. But for God, that public embarrassment might have been hard to bear. He gave me a son-in-law to lean on, a urologist who joked his way through the very uncomfortable procedure, a nurse named Angelica, who 3 days later to my great relief removed that painful necessity and who, after I addressed her as an angel, replied, “That’s what my grandpa calls me!” Yes, there’s both pain, and relief on this journey.[6]
And oh yes, the bare bottom and loin cloth moment every day was handled with such kind patience and friendly chatter that eventually I hardly gave it a second thought. But for God’s gift, I might have been just another number in an endless line of radiation patients. Instead, he gave me two caring professionals who made sure I knew they cared for my welfare and healing through all the difficulties. I came with extreme weariness, questions, arthritis pain, hot flashes from the testosterone blocker, and vertigo. They came with true compassion, taking great care to get me lined up just right and always taking an interest in what I was doing later in the day or over the weekend.
The hormone therapy I’m on for the year has presented some unique challenges for my Faithful Shepherd’s answers to my prayers. Perhaps it’s because I’ve never been much of a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, but the loss of testosterone (meant to keep from stimulating my highly rated cancer into metastasis) created some changes in my self-perception, loss of physical strength, loss of very familiar male-related urges, and the experience of frequent, sleep-stealing hot flashes followed by bone-rattling cold that led me to battle depression every other week for the last five months. But God gives green pastures beside still waters… God provides a peace and comfort at such dark times that can’t be rivaled by any medicine (we tried some). The prayers, counsel, and comforting presence of family and friends becomes the reason for living on, and completing the course. If I’ve survived depression and will survive it again, it’s because I know a God who’s far bigger than any fearful mountain and far deeper than any dark pit.
There’s more to this story and I could go on with my list of how God answered – things like new understanding of loss for deep loneliness without Julia, and exercise in self-discipline for demanding diet and schedule changes.
Feelings of uselessness crept in, but God has given me opportunity after opportunity to testify to His goodness and faithfulness. I have been surrounded by friends who suffered stomach ailments or sinus infections, but I have remained free through the treatments. The core weariness that stripped me of all my reserves and left me empty of strength in the middle of activities met undeniable courage and inspiration in my sister and my daughter who have both learned that God’s blessing is found in one more step beyond “hitting the wall” when all energy seems gone.
God’s blessing is found in one more step beyond…
Shaken by all these things, but stabilized by God’s promises. Offering up desperate prayer from time to time, but receiving timely, daily answers. Sleepless nights from stressful side effects have become opportunities to practice scripture memory and pray for those I love. Angry and complaining words escaping my mouth are met with mercy and grace restoring me to gratitude and hope.
My radiation table list of blessings goes on, adding to my heart’s knowing that HE will answer by prayers born out of faith and love for Him.
Now, the radiation therapy is over and I’m waiting to see if the cancer is over. I ask, “Now what, O God? What do I do with my day? How do I navigate the next 3 months of testing and appointments with purpose?” Should I despair? NO!
Like the old camp chorus, “My Lord Knows the Way Through the Wilderness,” I know all I have to do is follow, taking one more step beyond where all my resources have ended.[7] Somehow, I feel called to get up my fishing tackle from the basement, untangle the lines, and hit the lakes and streams around here. Perhaps that’s where the healing strengthening of soul and mind God is working in me will continue.
God has more green pastures and still waters for me. Joyful bird songs, convicting Bible references, friendly hugs, kind gestures, wise understanding and camaraderie, and timely explanations for questions created by dark moments. I know that whatever the outcome of this journey, God is the one that I’m going to credit for keeping my feet steady and my spirit filled with hope. As my sister and I say, “We may be shuffling, but it’s with chin up and eyes forward.”
Emotionally and perhaps mentally I may still find myself in the dark, but spiritually, I know I’m in Glory – the glory of who Christ is in every moment of weakness. He remains the glorious, overcoming ruler of my heart![8]
This past Monday when I left the radiation unit, the therapists gave me hugs and told me they were celebrating with me, the receptionist spoke about how I had impacted her life so positively, and just now, this morning, before deciding to write this to you, my daughter sent me a song by Shannon Adducci called “Here In The Shadow.” As I listen, the lyrics are once again restoring my soul to “green pastures and still waters.”
“I love You oh Lord my strength / I love You oh Lord my strong high tower / Where else can I run? / Where else can I hide away? / …I will run to Your embrace / …Here in the shadow of Your wings / …I will rest here Father / You are my peace / I love You oh Lord my strength / I call on You Lord at any hour / Where else can I turn?”
BOTH/AND…
Dateline May 13, 2022
On this Tuesday which marks a three-year-anniversary to Julia’s passing away into Glory, God gave me a special blessing. I received word that the blood test yesterday shows my PSA at a 0.6 level. That means the radiation was effective!
[1] https://adirondacks.deerfoot.org/
[2] Grandpa Ewert’s Prayer—A Legacy of Faith
In All Things God Works! – Alistar Begg
[3] “Victory doesn’t always come with a roar. It isn’t always a grand, defining moment where everything falls into place. Sometimes, victory looks like getting out of bed when your heart is heavy. It’s the tear-soaked nights when you surrender your pain to God, trusting that He sees you even when no one else does. Sometimes, victory is simply taking the next breath, the next step, even when grief threatens to hold you back. It’s not always loud, but it is always real. And more often than not, I’ve found that the greatest victories aren’t in the moments of celebration but in the quiet places where grace carries us forward. If you’re in a season where every step feels like a battle, you are not alone. God is walking with you, and even the smallest steps forward are proof of His strength in you. Keep going, friend. Grace is holding you up.” #shewhoprays
[4] Psalm 23:1-2; cf. Isaiah 33:2, 5-6 NIV – Lord, be gracious to us; we long for you. Be our strength every morning, our salvation in time of distress. The Lord is exalted, for he dwells on high; he will fill Zion with his justice and righteousness. He will be the sure foundation for your times, a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the Lord is the key to this treasure.
[5] Sonnet 43 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning on this particular day whispered by the Lover of My Soul to my heart…”How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. / I love thee to the depth and breadth and height / My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight / For the ends of being and ideal grace. / I love thee to the level of every day’s / Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. / I love thee freely, as men strive for right. / I love thee purely, as they turn from praise…”
[6] Sixteen Singing Men with Dick Anthony
[7] My Lord Knows the Way Through the Wilderness
* Everybody Sings! LP [Stereo] – Cliff Barrows & The Gang (1966) (~7:45 minute mark)
* The Inlander Podcast #3 Sam: My Lord Knows the Way through the Wilderness: ~12-minute mark: “When you walk by faith and not by sight, at some point God will Show you the road”; ~46:50-minute mark: “Why is prayer so important?” “Prayer is like breathing. …When you think about that trip across Africa, I have all this data, the backlog of God’s faithfulness. There’s no way, in my mind, that I wouldn’t find that sign.”
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