Putting on God’s Armor

I was on the battlefield yesterday.

Actually, it started last week when they called me in for some more tests.  They saw something on the mammogram that was suspicious.

Of course, they didn’t say this they just said that I need to come in for a bilateral screening and an ultrasound.  Then they called back and said they take credit cards and asked if I wanted to pay right then over the phone.

Talk about adding insult to injury.  No information.  You might have cancer.  You need to pay us.

Rude.

But since I was raised to be polite, there was a lot of,   “Yes, maam”, “Okay, thank you”, and the one I say more often than I’d like to admit… “I’ll be using Visa…”

Then it started…the gearing up for the worst.

I know that there are a lot of false positives and a lot of women go in for extra screening and they don’t find anything.   I just read an article about the different opinions among Doctors about how often screening is needed and the concern that maybe all this testing is causing undue stress, etc.

But none of that matters when it’s you.

I also know people that have cancer, people that have beat cancer, and unfortunately I know others who have lost their battles with this awful disease.  It’s a formidable foe.  It’s scary.

I was so cognizant of my every move and thought that day.  I was hyper aware in the hospital, taking it all in as if it was my last time I’d see these things as a healthy person.  I felt like I was in the “before” scene… “before she knew”.  There were signs, literature, smiling faces, there was a “wishing you the best” from the registration lady.  Some people lowered their eyes.  There was seriousness.  There was a prayer box.  Here’s a picture.

I’m lucky.  It turns out there is “nothing to worry about”.

But now I’m just not buying that.  I will worry about it.  Not every day but some days.  I’ll worry when I hear a friend has to go in for another test.  I’ll worry when I do.  I’ll worry when I hear the news that a friend has cancer.  I’ll worry the phone is going to ring with bad news.  I’ll worry about my kids and my friends and my husband and my friends kids and I’ll worry about me.  Not every day but some days.  Not all day but for some of the day.  I’ll forget and things will be going along and then I’ll remember.

This is what I mean when I say I was on the battlefield.

As a Christian, I believe the battlefield is in between my ears.  It’s my mind.  It’s the worry, the overthinking, the analyzing, the predicting, the anxiety, the regret, the insecurity.  It’s my mind that tells me not to trust.

So I went in there yesterday.  I went into my mind.  I faced it head on.  I took my heart and my trust and my faith and my Savior that walks with me.  I took them all into the battlefield of my mind.  As I was lying on the examining table for the ultrasound, I just prayed.  I prayed that God would be with me and I felt Him.  I prayed that I could handle whatever news came my way and I felt a release.  I prayed that I would walk this path with grace and humility and acceptance…whatever comes…and I felt a keen sense of grace, humility and acceptance.

God says to ASK.  Ask…Seek…Knock.  Don’t just lie down in the battlefield and give up.  Don’t let your mind talk you out of your faith.  Don’t forget Him.

They say there are no atheists in foxholes.  I believe it.  There are probably no atheists in cancer wards either.

After all, we cannot go into the battlefield alone.  Thank God we don’t have to.

I have been praying for all of the people in the world suffering from cancer…all of the moms and dads and brothers and sisters and daughters and sons…all of the husbands and wives and grandmas and grandpas and fiancés…all the people of all faiths from all backgrounds that fight on the battleground of cancer in the midst of pain and fear and doubt and the unknown.  I pray that Jesus is with them in every moment…healing and comforting and holding and reminding them that they are loved.

I do pray for that.  But mostly I pray for them to be healed forever and for cancer to just be gone…eradicated…over.  I pray that we win this battle for good…that we find a cure.  That’s what I pray for most. Please join me.

©2013 Sue Bidstrup, Great Big Yes™ All Rights Reserved