August 8, 2016
While receiving chemotherapy, you will see many things. As you sit in the recliner, with a needle attached, you cannot help but watch the reaction of the people around you. Some sit in quiet, almost afraid they will not have the words to speak to anyone around them. Others you see in a panic, anxiety overtaking them as their treatment is being made ready. But from this recliner, in each face of those around me, all of their hopes can be seen. The hope that they will not be overcome with sickness. The hope the treatment will work. And the hope that they will never have to sit in one of these recliners again. And I also realize, that if they are able to look beyond my smile, they would see many of these same expressions in my face.
In each recliner, you will see people who look for some form of distraction from the tubes and needles that lead to their arms. Some bury themselves in a book, hoping to get so caught up in the story that time will just fly by. Some turn to their phones and their laptops, looking to occupy their time in the lives of others. And there are some who watch the television screens that are around the room. Looking to take their mind off of why they came, if only for a few fleeting moments. But from this recliners, time tends to stand still. The reality of what brings you to the recliner somehow slows time, as seconds seem to turn into minutes. And minutes seem to turn into hours.
But from this recliner, God has taught me an amazing lesson. He has shown me a hope that is not found in tubes and needles. But a hope that is instead found in opportunity. An opportunity to share His hope with those around me, those that so long for any hope. A captive audience on each side of my recliner, where I can share with someone else what God is doing for me. An hour, or often two, to talk to someone about the hope that only God can offer. And to share with them what the Lord so longs to do in each of their lives. An opportunity to bring hope to a face that is in desperate need of hope. A face in a recliner, often reaching out for hope, when they did not even realize they were reaching out at all.
An opportunity to not be an inspiration, but to be a Godspiration. An opportunity to show them that the hope they seek will not be found in a recliner, but on a Cross. That the cure they seek will not enter their body through a needle, but can only enter them through the Holy Spirit. An opportunity to show them that inspiration will never be found in the nurse’s voice, the doctor’s word, or the sounds they hear me speak. That true inspiration can only be found in the whispered, but powerful words the Lord is lovingly speaking to them. An opportunity to let each of those around me know, their only hope cannot be bought with an insurance card, but has already been purchased for them with the blood of Christ.
The Lord has used this recliner to teach me that hope is far more than just wishful thinking. My hope is not an aspiration of things I wish for, but is the assurance that I am not going through all this alone. The confident expectation that the Lord will provide me everything I truly need to face head on whatever this world may throw at me. A frequent reminder from this recliner, that my hope is found in the breath Christ daily breathes into me, and in the certainty of His arms as they surround and hold me.
While in this recliner, the Lord has shown me that hope is a fundamental part of righteousness. That without God's hope, much of the meaning of this life is lost. When I place my hopes in the trust of God’s hands, disappointment will always escape me. And fear and anxiety can never find a way to me. He reminds me that my hope is deep rooted in the structure of the Cross. And those roots have spread so far and so wide, that they encompass my recliner each time I find myself sitting in it. From the comfort of this recliner, the Lord shows me that my hope goes far beyond endurance. That my hope stands stronger than time, and is without the limitations that we see time holding over us. That my hope, may have begun with the Cross, but it did not die on the Cross. My hope knows no end, and will live in me long after cancer has taken this body.
Along with my faith, hope is the persevering makeup of my life, and without that hope I could never know what true love is. It is through that hope, that my joy is found. And despite the despair that serves as a reminder in the needles and tubes that they weekly prepare for me, it is hope that brings peace and comfort to this recliner. Hope reminds me that my life is not defined by the cancer that brings me to this recliner, but that my life can only be defined by the Lord above.
This recliner serves as a constant reminder, my hopes will never be found in my dreams, but is always present in God’s will. No matter where we find ourselves in this world today, and no matter what our beliefs might be, at the core of all of us we seek something unconditional. Something, or should I say “Someone”, with the power and kindness to reach out to us, to fulfill our deepest needs, and to lead our life in a difference making direction. The truth of this recliner shows me that I can never do that for myself, and that the world around me cannot begin to offer it to me either. For my hope to ever be more than a dream, I must seek a source for my hope that can make it a reality. A source that is greater than my primal wants. A source that not only knows what I need today, but already knows everything I will need tomorrow.
This world can never be the source the reality of my hope seeks, only God can. When we accept His love, mercy, grace, and power within us, nothing can ever stand against us. It is only because He is found in me, that my hope becomes more than just another dream. And as He makes my hope a reality, my dreams become visions of His will. Visions that fill my eyes every time I see His will fulfilled. And in the beautiful purpose of seeing His will fulfilled, I joyfully get to watch as my hopes also become fulfilled.
God’s word tells me, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”(Romans 8:38-39). When His will becomes my will, when His vision becomes my vision, when His needs become my wants, all my hopes become more than just a dream. They become the reality of what He promises me tomorrow, and the perfection of everything He is showing me today.
Each time I find myself in this recliner, I am constantly reminded, I can never have a good day’s work, unless it is first a God’s day’s work. No matter how weak this cancer might leave me, no matter how much of my strength it may drain from me, a good day’s work can still lie ahead of me. God uses this recliner to remind me, that a good day’s work is not seen by the grueling hours I put into each day, but by what I do with the opportunities He gives me each day. A good day’s work can only be judged by what I do with all the things He lays at me feet.
There are now days that this recliner becomes my office. Days that never allow me the strength to do all the things I so long to still do. But even from this recliner, the Lord has shown me that I can still do everything He needs me to do. And if I cannot go to work, if I remember exactly where my hope is found, He will bring that work to me. This recliner shows me that cancer does not leave me with an excuse, but in His hands, it leaves me with an opportunity. An opportunity to reach that one person He so needs me to reach. An opportunity to just nudge the door open a little, so the Holy Spirit can then enter that door and do what He does best. I may no longer be able to reach the many, but my cancer does not excuse me from doing all I can to still reach the one. And who knows whom that one might be? That one, that very one, that the Lord still blesses me to be able to reach today, might be the very one that the Lord uses to reach countless, precious lives tomorrow.
Each day I find myself in this recliner, I am reminded of just how precious of a gift from the Lord that this life is. And from the reality of this recliner, He also teaches me that the value of that gift is not seen in the amount of days we live, but what we do for Him with each and every day. It is in that gift, in that value of every precious day, that my hope is found. And with each day, He so lovingly reminds me, that even with my cancer, my hope will always be alive tomorrow.
As I struggle to again climb into this recliner, I am again reminded of the promise that is held in my hope. As I look around me at all the faces, I pray that God will give me the chance today to share that hope. To help just one to see hope as more than a dream. That from this recliner today, they will not just see in me the tubes, the needles, the IV’s, and the drip bags that are attached to me. That they will see in me the One who sits in this chair with me, who each minute in this recliner has His arms securely around me. As those around me today look at this recliner, may that not see me, but see Him. May they not be inspired by the little I, alone, have to offer. But as they look at this recliner, may they see the hope the Lord has so lovingly given me, and be Godspired!
Today, do not be inspired, be Godspired!
