Guest Post: Can’t See by Maureen Miller
Earlier this year, TMP Books put out a call for submissions for two anthologies, requesting stories from cancer warriors/survivors, and from cancer caregivers. We received several submissions, but not enough to fill either book, so for now, they’ve been postponed.
When I notified the writers who had submitted, one of them suggested running the stories on my blog, and I loved the idea. The whole goal of the books is to share people’s stories, to give encouragement and hope to other cancer warriors and caregivers, so why wait?
Today, I begin sharing those stories once a week. Share your comments with the authors - I know they’d love to hear from you.
Can’t See
by Maureen Miller
“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part;
but then shall I know even as also I am known” (1 Cor. 13:12).
Cancer seems to be everywhere, and although there aren’t many things I can say, in good conscience, that I truly hate, I honestly do feel as though I hate cancer. It causes fear. Pain. Death. It’s a thief—ransacking lives. Robbing people of time. Stealing loved ones too soon.
Some time ago I was trying to email a friend, inquiring on a mutual friend’s father who’d been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and was preparing for extensive and painful surgery. Even with all this, the doctors gave him a very slim chance for full recovery. As I typed my message, for some reason—when I tried to write the word “cancer”—my computer autocorrected and wrote instead, “Can see.”
Can see?
I was struck and immediately thought, “No, I CAN’T see... I can’t see why cancer has to be so prevalent. I can’t see why so many good people leave so soon. I can’t see why loved ones must be left behind to mourn in anguish.
I CAN’T SEE!
And it’s true. I can’t see why so many people are currently battling cancer. I pray for them. I hope for them. I want for them more time. Less pain. More appetite. Less fear. More hair...
And for those closest to the ones battling cancer, I can’t see how they endure—watching their loved ones suffer. Enduring, alongside their sick spouse, sleepless nights. Cries of agony. Whispers of dreams not yet realized. Hopeful prognoses turned to “There’s nothing more we can do...” No—
I CAN’T SEE!
“Can see?” I scoffed. Stupid autocorrect. C.A.N.C.E.R. I typed more slowly. Methodically. And finally appearing correctly, I moved on in my message.
But the real message—His message—is becoming more clear to me. And although I’ll probably need to be reminded again (I’m a very slow and sometimes stubborn learner, after all!), the Take Home from this is just that—
I. CAN’T. SEE.
Not yet. I can’t see any meaning in cancer. I can’t see any meaning in pain. I can’t see any meaning in loss. Because—
I CAN’T SEE—because, for now, (I) only see through a glass darkly...
I can’t see. No, of course not. My fleshly eyes only want to see that which is pleasant. I close them to things that are not. I want things my way. I’m a selfish girl, after all. I forget that this world is not as it was intended. That selfishness such as mine (no better, no worse) was what tainted it long ago. What stains it still.
Cancer, too—an ugly blemish upon an imperfect, sin-scarred world. Not what God intended—no! But thankfully, through Christ, it’s what He has indeed redeemed. I say it again, with thankfulness—and suddenly, the blinders of hate (even toward cancer) begin to fall away:
God, through Christ, has redeemed the world! Cancer doesn’t get the last word. Pain and death don’t either. Agony and loss aren’t purposeless, as there’s beauty in brokenness—purpose even in pain.
Ah, yes—though there is much I indeed cannot see or fully understand just yet, perhaps through His lens of grace and with His enabling power, I CAN SEE some things. Maybe I can even see purpose in cancer—if such is, for some, the portal through which one must pass to enter into his or her eternal Home. And there, where pain and sickness are no more, one can finally see Jesus “face to face” (1 Cor. 13:12b).
About Maureen:
Maureen Miller
Maureen Miller is an award-winning author who contributes to Guideposts as well as several online devotion sites. She loves collaborative work and has stories and essays in more than twenty compilations to date. Enjoying life in all its forms, Maureen lives on Selah Farm, a hobby homestead nestled in the mountains of western North Carolina with Bill, her husband of thirty-five years, and their three children and grand-girls. She loves to share about God’s extraordinary character discovered in the ordinary things of life and blogs at www.penningpansies.com. Her first novel, Gideon’s Book, is due for release later this year.
Connect with Maureen on Facebook.
Read More:
Questions I’ve Had Since My Cancer Diagnosis
Does Your Hospital Have a Navigator?
Turning Points: How I Became a Writer
Summer Activities and Book Recommendations