Hope for Your Heart: Finding Strength in Life's Storms (9 page)

If you’ve ever been hit with sudden bad news, you know the feeling—immediate distress, disorientation, disbelief.
It just can’t be.
I kept asking myself,
Can this really be
happening?

Driving home from the hospital with my assistant and dear friend Kay, we rode along in silence, both of us numb and dazed. Arriving at my house, we stood in the entryway for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next. It seemed pointless to go right back to life’s mundane tasks—attending to paperwork, returning emails, checking phone messages.

Then I noticed tears in Kay’s eyes. I said, “It’s going to be all right, Kay.
I’ll
be all right.”

“I know, I know . . .” she said, and her voice trailed off.

Kay is not typically a teary person. But there she was, her eyes filling with pools of water. Aside from my deep appreciation for Kay’s concern, I took her tears as another sign that I was in for a very extraordinary experience.

The following night a group of close friends gathered at my house to pray for me. These precious people all came to pray for
me
. That had never happened before. It had always been me going with a group of people to pray for someone else in crisis. Now the roles were reversed. Another surreal moment.

The next day, while waiting at the airport for my flight to Baltimore, my doctor called to tell me that not only did I have cancer in one breast, I had an even more aggressive type of cancer in the other one. It couldn’t be felt because it was growing toward the chest wall. A third surreal moment.

From Baltimore I went on to the New York City conference. I was there to train pastors, counselors, and other caregivers on how to respond to those suffering the emotional and spiritual aftershocks of the terrorist attacks. I was both grateful and humbled by the opportunity and glad I had kept the commitment.

Besides feeling that I was doing my part to help and serve, I was clearly moved and motivated by the faith, hope, and love I found in the sad faces and broken hearts of those attending the conference.

And I was reminded once again of the ways God helps us through adversity and affliction. They were resources I would draw upon again and again through the long months of chemotherapy and recovery following surgery. It was a grueling ordeal, to be sure, but hope kept me anchored.

In dealing with cancer, in submitting to God’s perfect will that allowed such an occurrence in my life, there were two things I needed to exercise—faith and hope. Sometimes two words are so intertwined that it is difficult to distinguish their meanings. Such is the case with faith and hope.

Although the two concepts overlap in many ways, the Bible does differentiate between them. We know they are different, for instance, because Paul uses them in a sequence: “Now these three remain: faith, hope and love” (1 Cor. 13:13).

Hope is based on an assured promise, whereas faith is acting on that promise. Faith is hope put into action. Since a picture is worth a thousand words, picture in your mind a ship anchored in the water.

• The water represents the sea of people and circumstances you encounter in this life.
  
• The ship in the water represents you as a believer safely navigating through life.
  
• The anchor in the water represents the guaranteed hope that Christ will hold you secure to keep you from drifting dangerously off course. Realize, when the anchor is at work, you won’t see it!
  
• The rode is a strong chain with one end connected to the ship and the other to the anchor. In fact, the anchor holds strong and secure with a scope ratio of five to seven times farther away than the depth of the water. The rode connected to the anchor represents your faith in action . . . acting in faith that Christ will hold you secure. The act of anchoring (dropping the anchor and chain into the water) is based on the guaranteed hope that the anchor will hold.
  

Having hope that we can be secure is necessary for us to take the action needed to be made secure. Acting in faith is necessary so that hope is not an empty, lifeless concept but rather a living hope based upon the guaranteed promises of God, leading us to experience an anchored life.

In physical life . . .

• Our hope for sustaining physical life resides in believing in the benefit of food (accepting that eating food is necessary to stay alive).
  
• Our faith is exercised when we actually eat food for sustenance.
  
• If we have no hope in the merit of food, we will not eat and will prematurely die.
  

In spiritual life . . .

• Our hope in Jesus is based on the promise of God the Father that God the Son would be the Savior of the world; thus our hope is Jesus. By faith we receive Jesus into our hearts and lives; therefore, faith is the means by which we actually receive our hope.
  
• Our hope in Jesus prompts us to step out in faith, taking God at His word. Our faith is motivated by our hope, and faith is the means by which we benefit from our hope. Placing our faith in Jesus is the means by which we take hold of our hope in Him and receive all the benefits of having Jesus, including living an anchored life and spending eternity with Him.
  
• Our hope for eternal life is Jesus, because of His finished work on the cross for the forgiveness of our sins. But if we refuse to have hope
  in
  Him, we will spend eternity separated
  from
  Him.
  

As you sojourn on the sea of life, Christ has set you on His course, first to save you and then to conform you into His image. Having the assurance of hope is necessary before you can act in faith. Then you act in faith because of your hope. Ultimately, the Bible says that your hope is the catalyst that produces your faith.

. . . the faith and love that spring from the hope that is stored up for you in heaven and that you have already heard about in the word of truth, the gospel. (Col. 1:5)

To illustrate from my own family, when my dad was in his sixties, he went to his doctor for a checkup. Tests revealed he had polyps in his colon. Knowing they could become cancerous, the doctor recommended surgery.

My dad’s response? “No! All doctors want to do is cut on you.” Always skeptical of physicians, he chose not to listen to the specialist. But here’s the point: Because Dad didn’t have hope in the medical evaluation, he didn’t have faith to act upon it. Ultimately my father’s refusal to believe the diagnosis and to act on the doctor’s recommendation had deadly results: My dad later died of colon cancer— needlessly.

On the other hand, since I did have hope in the accuracy of my cancer diagnosis, I acted in faith, followed the recommended treatment plan, and by the grace of God survived.

The storms of life greatly vary in intensity, like the hurricanes evaluated and ranked on the Saffir-Simpson Hurricane Wind Scale. Category 1 hurricanes sustain winds from 74 to 95 miles per hour. At the other end of the scale are Category 5 hurricanes with winds measuring more than 155 miles per hour.

A Category 1 hurricane could be likened to a friend letting you down, so you have to cancel a long-anticipated trip. Circumstances are swirling around you, but you’re not in danger of being blown over. A Category 5 hurricane would have to be associated with our greatest enemy, death, and could be likened to the loss of a child, spouse, or parent. Category 5 storms send us sprawling if we’re not anchored . . .
anchored in Christ
.

My experience with cancer was a Category 4 hurricane: Without treatment I faced the prospect of death, but exercising hope and faith kept me anchored as I submitted to God’s plan for my life.

A favorite motif used by the apostle Paul to explain spiritual principles could be called a nautical theme, with numerous references to storms, anchors, sailing, buffeting winds. Paul knew his readers could relate to these metaphors because much of first-century life revolved around the sea. It was a primary means of travel, it was a source of livelihood for many, and it provided much of their sustenance.

I imagine there’s another reason Paul packed his writings with such imagery—personal experience. Acts chapter 27 records Paul experiencing a harrowing and hair-raising lost-at-sea drama that definitely tested his hope and faith. Paul had been arrested in Jerusalem, charged with propagating beliefs contrary to Jewish law, inciting riots, and being a ringleader of a sect.

After appealing his case all the way to Caesar, Paul was put on a ship headed to Rome with a couple hundred other people (prisoners, soldiers, and sailors). That’s when things got really dicey. Almost immediately the ship ran into treacherous weather. The crew kept the vessel afloat . . . barely.

They were tossed about on the sea like a piece of driftwood, with no chance of docking or running aground on a beach. The sailors threw cargo and tackle overboard and used all of their skills to battle one watery blast after another. After several weeks of this, all onboard believed they would die.

The entire narrative is sprinkled with phrases such as:

The wind did not allow us to go farther. . . .

Soon a tempestuous wind, called the northeaster, struck down from the land. . . .

The voyage was now dangerous. . . .

Since we were violently storm-tossed. . . .
¹

Even Paul, the stalwart man of faith, believed all was lost. He told the soldiers, “Men, I can see that our voyage is going to be disastrous and bring great loss to ship and cargo, and to our own lives also” (v. 10).

Luke, Paul’s traveling companion, chronicled the event and confirmed the dire outlook: “When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days and the storm continued raging, we finally gave up all hope of being saved” (v. 20). At one point in this nautical nightmare, the crew let down not just one but four anchors. “Fearing that we would be dashed against the rocks, they dropped four anchors from the stern and prayed for daylight” (v. 29).

But then the ominous outlook changed with a late-night visit from an angel of God. The angel assured Paul that he would indeed testify before Caesar and that God would graciously preserve the lives of the men sailing with him. An emboldened Paul addressed his shipmates: “But now I urge you to keep up your courage, because not one of you will be lost; only the ship will be destroyed. . . . So keep up your courage, men, for I have faith in God that it will happen just as he told me” (vv. 22, 25).

After several weeks at sea, the ship’s captain spotted a beach and attempted to run the ship aground. But the craft rammed into a reef instead and got stuck. The ship was then battered by the surf and broke apart. The men were forced to jump overboard and swim to shore or cling to planks as they were swept toward land. Miraculously, all were saved, just as the angel had promised.

Luke ends the narrative by saying, “And so it was that all were brought safely to land” (v. 44 esv). As if breathing a huge sigh of relief, Luke reemphasizes their safe passage in the very next verse: “After we were brought safely through . . .” (Acts 28:1 esv).

All of us can relate to this story, even if we’ve never been violently tossed about at sea. Crises—catastrophic circumstances—crash upon us like spilling breaker waves and all but crush our hopes. Like the terrified passengers with Paul, all of us, at some time or another, have “prayed for day to come.”
²
God, please give me a ray of hope. Please shine a
light on this dark situation.

God assures us He will bring us safely through whatever storm we’re currently facing. He is charting the course, and—in His time, in His way—He will lead us to the other side of our troubled waters. God is vitally interested in the well-being of His children, and He promises to provide all we need to weather tempestuous trials. The psalmist writes, “Remember your word to your servant, in which you have made me hope. This is my comfort in my affliction, that your promise gives me life” (Ps. 119:49–50 esv).

From the earliest moments of my cancer diagnosis and all the way through my recovery, I set my mind and heart on the Scripture, “It is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Phil. 1:20–21 esv).

I had taught that passage years earlier but hadn’t really thought about it in quite a while. When I needed it most, when life and death were very much in question, there it was, and my Anchor was set . . . solid, strong, and sure!

I also thought often of the Scriptures that tell us God knows the number of our days: “When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be” (Ps. 139:15–16). “Man’s days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed” (Job 14:5). Since my days are known and numbered by God, I knew I was going to be okay whatever happened. Cancer is never sovereign over anyone’s life—only
God is
. Though I make decisions that influence my health and well-being, my life is ultimately in His hands.

Although at peace with God’s plan for my life, I very much wanted to beat cancer and was determined to do everything I could to live longer because I love ministering to people, I love the team at
Hope
For The Heart
, I love my friends and family, and I love experiencing God in daily living.

To find the courage to face a combatant like cancer, I knew I had to have hope, the miracle-working power of hope in God.