While I knew the man and his family, my familiarity was indirect. My kids played with his kids, and his wife on occasion connected with my wife to invite her to some womens’ functions at the church. Suddenly, something within me was overwhelmed by his story. I was compelled to reach out to him after the Sunday school class and tell him that I was praying for him: of course, we were all praying for him. But I also offered to meet with him during the next week, to learn more about the situation.
I am not sure what was my motivation for making the offer to meet with him the next week. I supposed I thought that it would be nice to do more than simply pray, but to connect personally to hear more of his story. I guess I thought I might try to be an encouragement to him, but I wasn’t really sure how. What could I honestly say that would bring comfort and encouragement to a man facing such a sudden catastrophic diagnosis?
That first meeting led to a years’ worth of meeting every week. The reason we met was more compelled by me than by him. In our first meeting together after that Sunday class, he challenged me with his approach to his cancer diagnosis. It was not that he was going to try the latest treatments or the most holistic, natural approaches, or that he was going to fly across the world to find some treatment in order that he might survive this diagnosis.
His approach was simple. He was resolute in his spiritual approach to this diagnosis, determined to live the things that he believed, no matter the prognosis and treatment that he would receive. He was not quitting the fight--he was already researching this particular diagnosis and all the available approaches to treatment. But he was more keenly aware of his spiritual condition in this fight, win or lose.