How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand. -Psalm 139:17

When fighting cancer wracks our body with pain and rubs our emotions raw, it’s not easy to focus on God’s love for us. At such times, we may wonder if God even loves us at all! If He loves us so much, why doesn’t He say the word and remove our pain and heal our jangled emotions? David must have wondered about God’s love. God had anointed him king over Israel in Saul’s place, yet David did not consolidate his throne for 21 long years. Saul had made finding and killing David his life’s priority. David spent years running and fighting for his life.

Despite the toxic hate that surrounded him, David mastered a mindset that kept him experiencing God’s love. God did not have to circumstantially “prove” His love, by removing Saul from his life. Perhaps David’s secret was his focus. He learned how to tune into the loving whispers of God deep in His spirit. He didn’t let Saul or anything steal his sensing of God’s love, a love which is incredibly abundant. My daughter, Amy, wrote recently about David’s description of the extent of God’s love:

Think about all the sand grains in the world. Like at the bottom of the ocean floor… between your toes… sand volleyball… the beach & the sandy edges of lakes… the sand MOUNTAINS in the deserts… the little glass vases filled with sand in people’s bathrooms. That is a lot of sand! So God thinks about you MORE than the number of sand grains on earth. His thoughts toward you are precious. See Psalm 139 (verse 17).

God’s positive thoughts about you outnumber the sand grains in the world?! Focus on that; let it soak in deep into your spirit.

For twelve years I had stood at a pulpit on Sunday mornings and proclaimed that our significance and value comes primarily from the Lord, and not from what we do. Yes, we can feel good about our performance, but God even loves us when we are unable to produce, and even when we “fail.” This truth was a source of comfort to me, and I had seen it bring freedom to others as well.

Then in 2002, Stage IV metastatic melanoma would severely test my grasp on this truth. The cancer and treatments stripped all of my strength. I tried to rise from my “unproductive state” through faith and positive thinking. Yet I was too weak to deliver a sermon. Heck, I couldn’t even get out of bed. I explained to the Lord that this was a colossal waste of time. I was not getting anything done. How could I make a difference lying flat on my back? Ahhh, the teacher needed to practice what he preached. I realized that my lack of productivity bothered me far too much. My identity, sense of self-worth, and self-esteem had become attached to my level of production. I even felt like a burden to my caretakers, to my incredibly supportive wife, Terri, and to my very understanding church. I thought I was wasting their time too.

The Lord broke through all of my noise, and reassured me that I was deeply loved by Him, even if I never helped another person again. In an inaudible voice, in a kind of whisper in my spirit, I heard Him say, “You are right in the center of my will right now, and I love you so much.” At first, it was difficult to receive such love with no strings attached, but today I am more liberated from my job and my sense of “success”. Now I know His affirming love for me, even when I’m at my absolute weakest.

So if your battles have rendered you helpless, remember your value is not tied to your production. He loves you, right now, more than you can ever imagine. So get busy… simply accepting His amazing love. I am grateful His ways are not our ways, and our suffering is never in vain.

I have a belief that might make some cringe. Here it is: There were benefits to my battle with cancer. Now before you conclude I’m losing my grip, let’s first remember God’s superior intellect. “My thoughts are not your thoughts, and My ways are not your ways” (Isaiah 55:9). It doesn’t appear that Paul, the suffering apostle, had cancer, but he was definitely acquainted with pain, as 2 Corinthians 11:23-25 makes clear.

… in far more labors, in far more imprisonments, beaten times without number, often in danger of death. Five times I received from the Jews thirty-nine lashes. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, a night and a day I have spent in the deep.

Paul had been physically battered because of his loyalty to God, yet he knew exactly how to cope. One might say he was an expert in pain management. In 2 Corinthians 4:16-18, he stressed a valuable benefit of suffering which helped him get through the horrible treatment he received:

Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day.  For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison,  while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.

If physical pain is leveraged correctly, it sets us free from temporal, tangible things, and it redirects us to eternal, unseen things. In other words, the comforts of this life can distract from eternal realities. Let’s face it, this earth is not our final destination. Yet we can become so caught up in earthly niceties, like homes, cars, vacations, experiences and accomplishments.

At our core, we are all spiritual beings. But no matter how many times He heals me in this life, my physical body will eventually give way to decay. So why would I invest so much in indulging earthly, physical desires? During the cancer battle, I constantly grieved that I could not play basketball, or go fishing. Though I really enjoyed these activities, I discovered I could live without them. Don’t get me wrong, God delights in giving us good things on this earth, but there is a difference between enjoying things and being distracted by them. Battling cancer helped me grasp that difference better. I have a long way to go, but now I have a firmer grip on an eternal perspective. Let’s not waste our suffering. Let it become a portal for God’s best.

Many trials are marathons, not sprints. Fighting cancer can be lengthy and extremely draining; it was for me. During the marathon journeys of Elijah the prophet, you might say he was “all over the map,” both physically and emotionally (1 Kings 17-19). He visited many places including Mt. Carmel, Jezreel, Beersheba, Mt. Sinai (Mt. Horeb) and somewhere in an Israeli desert.

Emotionally, Elijah “visited” many places as well. From supreme confidence, he moved to sheer panic; from exhilaration, he flopped at utter exhaustion; from incredible boldness, he slinked off to cowardly surrender. No wonder James said in his epistle that Elijah was just like us (James 5:17). The Greek word he used of us and Elijah is a compound word from “like” and “feelings.” In other words, Elijah rode the same emotional roller coaster that we ride today. Yet the Lord “followed” Elijah everywhere he went, to all of these physical and emotional places. At one point, Elijah received supernatural strength from the Lord for a long journey (1 Kings 18:46). God’s strengthening hand was so heavy upon him that he was able to outrun Ahab’s chariot over a distance of 25 miles during a torrential rainstorm! Later, after Elijah had exhausted his own strength running from Jezebel, the Lord gave him food that strengthened him for 40 days and 40 nights in the wilderness!

So what is the point for us? James is simply encouraging us that God grants extraordinary answers to prayer. He wants to work great endurance and miraculous energy into our lives. So during the long grind of an up and down battle with cancer, we can continually ask for that supernatural infusion of His mighty strength. God’s strength will meet us at every place we find ourselves.

We’ve seen them in grocery stores and restaurants. Chaos is their partner, and tantrums their tool of choice. After observing their interactions for a moment, you suspect they aren’t simply having a bad day. They’re kids caught in a pattern of controlling their parents; some refer to this behavior as bratty. Clearly the parents are to blame for not developing the child’s character to wait, or to do without. Even when the child’s wishes are indulged, he still finds no satisfaction. The ability to wait  graciously is a character issue, and those who possess this quality have discovered the contentment of maturity.

During my battle with cancer, there were times I was in close touch with, one might say, my inner brat. I wanted immediate release from the hospital, so I mercilessly nagged my doctor. I was fed up with dealing with cancer, so I threw myself a pity party.  I expected God to join me, but He was a no show. As we discussed in last week’s, In His Grip, God’s ways are so different from our ways. Again, we tend to think joy comes from prompt removal of pain and hardship, while God knows that patiently persevering through discomfort produces real joy. This is why He makes us wait. This is why He does not fulfill every desire.  This is how He develops supernatural contentment. James describes the progression from trials to maturity, “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials,  knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” So if God hasn’t answered your prayers yet, wait for Him patiently. His way of producing lasting joy is different than ours. By not giving us everything we want, He can give us everything we need.