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My son just graduated from high school. His long, slender frame mirrors his mother. His jawline and gait mimic his grandfather. His confidence and ambition remind me of a younger version of myself. Yet behind the handsome eyes of a young man ready to take on the world, I still see the little boy that brought my theology to life more than any textbook ever could. Frankly, my greatest joy in this season is that my son is still here with us.
Over a decade ago, sitting in a tiny examining room with paneled walls, we heard our pediatrician say the one word no parent ever wants to hear. “I wish I had better news,” she began, “but I believe he has leukemia.” Leukemia? Not my son. Fear rushed in as tears fell from our cheeks. How can this be?
Now that he’s finished high school, the tears are still falling but for a different reason. After 128 weeks of chemotherapy all those years ago, my son remains cancer-free. During his high school days, I often found myself overwhelmed with gratitude while watching him play sports, laugh with his friends, or sing in church. God has been so good to us. My son is not just alive but excelling now that cancer is in our rearview mirror. Next fall he will be a freshman at Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia.
Yet, even as we celebrate this milestone, I cannot help but remember many of the lessons we learned through the furnace of affliction. What were they?
First, it is OK to ask God why. Occasionally, well-meaning Christians or Bible teachers will either explicitly or implicitly caution that asking God why is out of bounds. Yet, the Bible nowhere teaches that it is sinful to ask God why. Job asked God why twenty different times. Moses asked God why He sent him to lead the nation of Israel (Exodus 5:22), Joshua asked God why He was allowing Israel to be defeated (Joshua 7:7), and the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah asked God why He dealt so harshly with Israel (Isaiah 63:17; Jer 14:19). Perhaps most stunning of all, however, is the remarkable lament of Jesus on the cross when He cried, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me (Matthew 27:46)?”
In none of these instances will you find God irritated or angry because of the inquiry. Questioning His work in your life is permissible, though demanding an answer is not. Feel free to ask God why, just don’t chastise Him if you don’t like the answer.
Second, Jesus really is enough. The issue is not whether God is real, but whether He is enough during seasons of difficulty. For years, I preached and encouraged others who were hurting to trust God no matter the circumstances. Though I sincerely believed this, I lacked an experience that tested my conviction. That is no longer the case. My son’s cancer helped me to see that having God in your life is always better than any answers He might give to explain your plight. I found God to be faithful, not because I read it in a book, but because I lived it during our worst days (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).
Third, faith does not give us the power to eliminate trials, but to endure them instead. It took great restraint to hold back my anger when a man prayed over my son in the airport one day. His treatment was nearly half over when this man stopped us and requested to pray for him. No problem there. But when this stranger began rebuking the spirit of cancer in his body before boldly declaring that my son was healed and no longer needed chemotherapy, I almost hit him. The health and prosperity gospel has always been offensive to me, but more deeply so after battling this disease as a family.
I do not mean to say that God cannot or does not heal at times. However, the notion that all sickness can be removed by faith is patently false. Sometimes God develops us through trials rather than rescuing us from them. I have no doubt that my boy will be a better man because of what he faced. Others also benefitted from the pain he endured. Our family grew in the Lord, several friends trusted Christ as their Savior, and a number of St. Jude families dared to believe they could beat cancer too as they observed our milestones. Perseverance is something to celebrate, not avoid (James 1:2-4).
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