Hope Is Such a Powerful Word
This is from my archives, but it still is true, even now, when our family absorbs the recent cancer diagnosis of my mother, while my dad continues to battle melanoma. The oncologist met with her for the first time yesterday and although there is lymph node involvement throughout her body, he spoke words of encouragement and hope.
Hope is such a small, powerful word.
One of the stories I have read as a BookPAL volunteer at Galveston Elementary school is The Man Who Walked Between the Towers by Mordicai Gerstein. It is the true story of Philippe Petit, a young French aerialist, who rigged a cable between the World Trade Center towers in 1974 and spent almost an hour walking, dancing and performing tricks above the heads of astonished onlookers.
It's a story about a tightrope walker, but it is more than that. It is a story about bravery and beauty and determination.
It made me think of my dad.
My dad has been diagnosed with melanoma. It is serious enough that doctors are talking treatment plans and lasting side effects and life expectancy.
It has put our entire family on a tightrope wire act. Step by step we walk out the reality of my dad's disease as we hold onto hope, balancing our way above a minefield of fear and despair as we cling to our faith and belief in the possibility of the impossible.
It is a story about bravery and beauty and determination. Some would argue that we are in denial. That this is not hope.
And I admit it is a fine line. A thin wire. A balancing act.
Step by step we make our way across.
1 Corinthians 13:13 reminds us that at the end of all things, faith, hope, and love will remain. Hope is more than wishful thinking. Hope stands tall between her two friends, faith and love, making a powerful trio. Hope takes the steps across the wire, but right there, on her shoulders, are faith and love, cheering her across.
It is to this hope I cling for my dad, believing that there is a tomorrow out there in which he will be cancer-free. Sometimes, I think, we find ourselves living in the belief of that tomorrow, rather than in the reality of today. This can come across as denial, but I want to argue that it is hope.
Romans 8:25 says, "But if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we wait eagerly for it."
So, in the midst of doctor visits, medications and treatments, we search eagerly for that tomorrow, not always knowing on which side of eternity it will find us.
But in hope, we know it will.
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Update: My mom will start chemo ASAP. No primary site was found, but doctors believe it is adenocarcinoma. My dad's recent Cat scan showed no new growth to the tumors in his lungs. His doctor was very encouraged.
Currently my parents, Stan and Lois Hankins and seven friends are battling cancer. I know they would appreciate prayers on their behalf: Tami, Joe, Bill, Joyce, Alan, Lori, Kim.