Thankful for a stable MRI

Our recent trip to UCLA for a scheduled MRI brought welcome news that Susan’s brain tumor has not grown since she started her latest chemotherapy last month. I had been concerned because she’d developed some symptoms that could be caused by tumor growth – increased confusion and chronic pain in both legs. Ruling out the most serious causes is always a relief, even though a problem’s origin remains a mystery. Susan’s cognitive decline could be “chemo brain,” could be recent tumor growth, and could be temporary. She has better days and worse ones, but thankfully has not had a continual or steady decline.

The leg pain came unexpectedly and didn’t accompany any med changes or injuries. We ruled out a blood clot (which would affect just one leg) as well as muscle loss using a blood test. That left us to wait for a lumbar MRI along with her brain scan so we could know whether she has a tumor on her spine – she doesn’t. That was a big relief to rule out because the symptoms fit that idea and because of her cancer history. The weird thing was the day of our UCLA visit happened to be her most painful yet and required us to use the wheelchair there for the first time in over a year. Her leg pain translates to weakness and less mobility, so she’s probably at about 80% of her prior level. A new pain medication seems to help somewhat.

God’s word has been a comforting source of stability for us these past years and a daily refuge for me. I’m spending time soaking in the Psalms lately and love how the writer (usually David) plainly names the problem he’s facing, cries out to God, and declares his resolve to trust, follow, and praise him. In verse 10 of Psalm 30 he says, “O Lord, be my help.”

It’s a remarkable request that is changing how I pray. David doesn’t ask God to send help or give him help, but to be his help. There’s a deep spiritual truth at work here, especially for we who are used to fixing things right now. Susan and I have always known God has the capacity to heal her. Why he hasn’t is up to him as our sovereign. Still, we trust God as we ask for healing. But as much as we want to be rid of her illnesses, we’ve also grown to know and rely on God’s grace these past five years. We could not have experienced God in the ways we have if he gave us the help we pleaded for when we discovered her brain tumor in 2007. We wanted help immediately. Instead of helping us with an exciting miracle that would have returned us to our normal lives, we’ve learned to know God in meaningful ways. God has been our help. His love, faithfulness, grace and mercy are richer in our lives than we could have imagined. We are growing to see our need of him as we see how he meets our needs.

David’s prayer is the wisdom of God’s child pleading not for the gift, but for the giver of the gift. If you have the giver, you have his gifts. That’s why for whatever our need, it’s so appealing to pursue God in it. If I need his peace, “God, be my peace.” If I need strength, “God be my strength.” If I need healing, “God, be my healing.” Be my help.

Susan and I think about Heaven a lot. We’re both going there, whenever that happens. When we pass from this time-bound earth into the eternity of Heaven, it will be Heaven because God is there. We’ll know him in ways that are hidden from us now, ways that require our faith. In Heaven, faith will become sight – who needs faith when you’re looking at what you believe in? We’ll know him. Doesn’t he want us to know him now? Can’t we pursue him now? Can’t what we discover about him help us now? God, be my help. We’re learning.