What I’ve Learned In The Cancer School Of Wisdom

Four years ago, I was diagnosed with stage 4, “highly aggressive,” allegedly incurable cancer. So far, treatments have held it in check, but with no remission in sight. Doctors have forewarned us that the cancer will reactivate at some point. Just yesterday, we learned there might be an uptick in my cancer counts. This may not prove to be a real threat, but I can tell you with certainty that it feels really threatening. While it may be a false alarm, it’s most assuredly an alarm nonetheless, a reminder of what’s inevitable—unless God intervenes.

Drawing from his own cancer ordeal, John Piper has urged many of us not to “waste our cancer” but rather to redeem it for good. I’m trying to do that. By the grace of God and, I dare to hope, for the glory of God, I truly want to live well and then to die even better.

God’s Word taught me—long before my diagnosis—to live life and walk wisely, as if on the edge of eternity, and to avoid complacency and presumption by keeping my mortality in mind.

Moses prays in Psalm 90 that the Lord would “teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” Likewise, Paul urges us in Ephesians and Colossians to make the “best use of [our] time” (Eph. 5:15–16; Col. 4:5–6).

Repeatedly, the call is to pursue wisdom in the face of life’s brevity. This has made me wonder if I’ve grown wiser through my battle with disease and mortality. Has cancer led me to paths of wisdom?

Fourteen Wisdom Lessons Learned

Whatever the outcome, it’s clear I’m enrolled in the Cancer School of Wisdom—and I’m meant to grow wiser so long as I’m matriculated there. Here’s a partial list of what I’ve learned, more than ever before.

1. “Day by day” living is the only way to face life. Imagine the crippling fear I’d have felt if I had tried to process and anticipate the 1,400-plus consecutive days of debilitating treatment and unrelenting pain and suffering I’ve faced so far. I wouldn’t have survived. I must do life in no more than 24-hour increments, and I dare not be concerned about tomorrow before the clock strikes midnight. Worrying about tomorrow blends the poisons of grief, weakness, anxiety, and fear into a deadly concoction for which there’s no antidote except repentance and a fierce commitment to day-by-day living.

2. I can lament without despair. There’s a way to be sorrowful and yet always rejoicing, and thankfully, God has taught me this lesson enough that in all my circumstances, I’ve been able to smile as much as I cry (2 Cor. 4:8).

3. Groaning in wordless prayer can be just as effective as making long monologues. The One who knows the heart understands our groans. He needs no words to know what’s going on (Matt. 6:7–8; Rom. 8:26–27).

4. While I don’t need to be healed by God, I do need to be sustained by him (2 Cor. 12:8–10; Phil. 4:10–13). Sustaining grace is as great a miracle as healing grace. While grace to soar on eagle’s wings sounds cool, God’s gracious strength to help us walk one step at a time for days without number—without fainting—seems more impressive to me (Isa. 40:31). I’ve come to conclude that years of suffering endured well through God’s sustaining grace is a more astonishing wonder than an instantaneous healing wrought by God’s finger.

5. Faith isn’t naming or claiming a certain outcome but trusting God no matter the outcome (Dan. 3:16–18; 2 Cor. 12:6–11). The three Hebrew teens in Daniel 3 knew what God could do, even if they weren’t sure what he would do. They trusted and obeyed him no matter what he ordained.

6. Whatever my condition, I’m doing better than I deserve. It’s a wonder that he should even notice me, lowly creature that I am. It’s an even greater wonder that he knows me and doesn’t mark my iniquities against me. For if he did, I wouldn’t be able to stand. If God were to mark my sins and give me what I deserve, my next breath would be in hell (Pss. 8:3–4; 130:3–4)

Whatever my condition, I’m doing better than I deserve.

7. There’s never a time—so long as breath is in my lungs and strength is in my body—to stop praising him, or to sit back in casual indifference, or to pull back from the race (Pss. 63:4; 150:6; 2 Cor. 5:6–11).

8. A faithful life is often a simple matter of God-given determination to not be fainthearted and to just not quit (1 Cor. 16:13; Gal. 6:9).

9. Sorrows don’t stop being sorrows just because we have joys, and joys don’t stop being joys just because we have sorrows (2 Cor. 6:8–10). We need the stabilizing balance this brings, lest we sink lower than the grave.

10. I must hold on to God’s promises even when they’re delayed. As it’s true that God is never late in fulfilling his promises, he’s never early either. We have to learn to wait on the Lord for all he has covenanted to do (Isa. 40:31; 2 Pet. 1:3-4; 3:8–9).

11. How I die can be just as important and influential as how I live. Jesus is watching, people are watching, and being faithful to the end matters (Acts 7:55–59; Rev. 2:10).

How I die can be just as important and influential as how I live.

12. To live is Christ. It’s to know him, to trust him, to serve him, to behold and become like him, to enjoy him, to suffer with him, and to await his return (2 Cor. 3:17–18; Phil. 1:21; 3:7–11).

13. To die is gain. For in being taken from here, I’ll be found with him there. I’ll see him; I’ll be with him; I’ll be changed and healed by him, welcomed forever into his house where tears and trials are no more (Ps. 23:6; John 14:1–3; Phil. 1:21; 1 Thess. 4:16–18; 1 John 3:1–3; Rev. 21:3–4).

14. Whether I live or die, I’m the Lord’s. He is the potter and I the clay. He is free to mold me, make me, cleanse me, and use me as he wills (Isa. 64:8; Rom. 14:7–9; 2 Cor. 5:14–15; 2 Tim. 2:21).

Still in School

For as long as I live, I’ll likely remain enrolled in the Cancer School of Wisdom. I must accept the fact that in the effort to not waste my cancer, I need to keep learning the lessons only learned in the furnace and the fire.

I’m with Paul in wanting to endure suffering by fighting the good fight, finishing the race, and keeping the faith. I want to so live and die that I’ll one day graduate from the Cancer School of Wisdom and receive a crown of righteousness laid up for me by my Savior and Lord (2 Tim. 4:5–8). For in that moment, I’ll know it was worth it all.