God of the Valley

When I first heard my cancer diagnosis, it was almost a novelty. I’m one who embraces new adventures, naturally an optimist. The distraction of sudden life change, the outpouring of care, the “celebrity” of being terminal. It was even a little exciting, in a strange kind of way.

The problem with cancer is it’s a long road sometimes. A long journey through an ever-deepening dark valley. Phone calls and “get well” notes become less frequent, as the lives of those around us must continue. The cure options dwindle. The fatigue and pain increase. Strength and ability-to-do diminish.

It grows quiet, the long days, some spent lying on the sofa building up enough energy to switch out the laundry or make dinner. And on the reverse side, even joyful visits from friends are physically taxing, while being a great blessing at the same time.

The valley narrows. My path is strewn with jagged rocks, difficult to see because the light is dimmer down here. A dramatic wind whistles, chilling the heart. There are scrapes on the knees from stumbling and my hands grow weaker as I feel my way along the trail.

Then I look around and begin to notice things.

I have a warm wrap to keep out the icy breeze, knitted by a loving friend. When I grow thirsty, there is a trickling stream of cold water flowing right beside me. If my toes are hurting, I can soak them, sit, and rest on a smooth boulder. If it seems too dark to see ahead, I look not beyond, but down at my feet, and I can see a light showing me the next step on my path.

On my left and my right I can just hear the encouraging whispers of some friends who have come to walk with me. They often do, whether with a note, a call, a visit, continued prayers, and the reality that if I need them, I can reach out. I am not alone in this valley.

This valley of the shadow of death. It’s not death, just the shadow. And here, Jesus, my Good Shepherd, promises to be with me, always. He’ll go to the end of my world with me. He places little and big miracles in my life to remind me of the goodness of God. He shapes gracious people to patiently demonstrate His love, reflected in them. His word comforts me.

Just this week I came across a favorite verse in Isaiah 46, where God encourages His people.

“Listen to me, you descendants of Jacob,
    all the remnant of the people of Israel,
you whom I have upheld since your birth,
    and have carried since you were born.
⁴ Even to your old age and gray hairs
    I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
    I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”

I am reminded that He has always been there, sunny meadows, splashing seashores, hot deserts, mountain tops, from my very beginning. I have been blessed with 55 years of life. Now that my hair is gray (chemo hair), He continues to be my sustainer and personal guide on this narrow road. It is not a detour, but a pathway we all must travel, whether it be short or long.

I cannot see the end of the valley, but I have read the guidebook, studying up on what’s ahead. I have researched the testaments of others who have walked this same narrow road. Though the way may grow darker and deeper, there is a great celebration at the end. My Guide knew that some of us would struggle along the way. Early on He told His close friends,

 “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.” (John 14:1-4)

He knew I would have “heart trouble,” some fear and doubting. He encourages me that I can trust Him….if it weren’t true, He would not have said it. Do I trust my Shepherd? I think it’s a good idea to stick with the one who has led so many down this path, and on to great things beyond. 

I am thankful for my fellow travelers, even if they can only hold my hand for part of the way, keeping me from stumbling. I am grateful for a God who is with me, especially in the difficult parts of the long journey. As struggles increase, I draw closer. Not many fancy prayers, but genuine bleating that a Good Shepherd answers.

He is faithful.