A Joyful Heart is Good Medicine

Remembering my post about making altars in the world, I am making this altar of words to remember the lesson I'm learning from a dear friend. I hope she doesn't mind....

I have a friend who beat stage 4 inflammatory breast cancer once. She is a beautiful, vivacious woman, determined to live the abundant life, no matter the cost. She is a woman after God's heart. Her battle with breast cancer taught her, among other things, I'm sure, the blessing of humility. It taught her how to receive graciously, after a lifetime of always giving. But it seems  that was only Humility 101. Several weeks ago, the doctors found a couple of spots on her brain.

After the daunting news that she then had to undergo full brain radiation, she picked herself up and went on. The side effects of the accompanying steroid treatment have been interesting, to say the least. Sometimes she can't sleep. Sometimes she loses her temper. Sometimes she suffers uncontrollable food cravings that rival the most pregnant of all women. But despite it all, the most wonderful thing is happening. She laughs.

She affectionately began calling herself  "Radiohead" when she started the radiation treatments and eventually crafted herself a priceless hat out of aluminum foil, which she donned for a new Facebook profile picture. She later took some hilarious photos to display her joy over receiving two dozen of her beloved Krispy Kreme donuts. And  whenever her new temper arises unexpectedly, she jokingly calls herself the Hulk, quoting David Banner from the original TV show: "Don't make me angry; you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."  Through it all, she keeps on laughing, and that laughter has far reaching effects.

I hope that one day she will undertsand what a profound blessing it has been for me to watch as God teaches her how to embrace every moment of her journey. Her lessons are becoming my lessons, too. One thing she has already learned for sure is that " A joyful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit dries up the bones." (Proverbs 17:22)  She decided from the beginning that she wouldn't be like any of the people she's encountered who resign themselves to the grave from the first news of diagnosis. 

 Yes, she's tired. Certainly she's scared sometimes. I know she has her moments when she just doesn't want to do this anymore. But she knows from whence cometh her help. (Psalm 121-2)  She chooses not to grieve, because the joy of the LORD is her strength. (Nehemiah 8:10) She has firmly resolved  to follow Jesus, no matter what, no matter where, and I admire her so much for that. Our Lord did promise that life would be hard. (John 16:33) But He also promised in the very same verse that He has already overcome this world, with all its heartache and disease, all its disappointments and uncertainties, all of its pain.  If God is for us, then who can be against us? (Romans 8:31)

So here's what I'm learning from this precious child of God. I pray that it changes your whole way of living. Her life is teaching me to understand the words my grandfather spoke shortly before he died. He knew, too, that "in this life, pain is unavoidable; misery is optional. "

Today, even in pain, I will choose laughter and life.

Thanks, Eve.

Father, thank You for those sisters and brothers You place in my life to teach me about perseverance and determination. Thank You for those who, like Jesus, are brave, even in the face of cancer or injury or pain. Thank You, Father, that my character is more important to You than my comfort. Help me to remember that as I walk through the dark valleys of my own life. Let the light in other overcomers be a beacon that leads me to Your love.

In His perfect, healing love,
Amy



copyright 2010, Amy Wallace