Cancer is the worst kind of thief. It arrives stealthily and silently and lives in the dark, uninvited. While you eat and sleep and breathe, it is there, feasting. Brain, liver, bones, blood—it will take any cells it wants, choosing, it seems, at complete random.
It takes the healthy.
It takes the unhealthy.
It takes the young.
It takes the old.
It takes and it takes and it takes.
Cancer is SO selfish. It does not care who is left behind, or left wounded. It does not care what is lost, whether limbs or organs or hair or lives. It has no mercy and no compassion. It does not feel guilty. Cancer exists only to sate its hunger, and it is always hungry. (Click to Tweet)
Cancer doesn’t care about your hopes.
Cancer doesn’t care about your dreams.
Cancer doesn’t care about your neighborhood.
Cancer doesn’t care about your job.
Cancer doesn’t care about your family.
Cancer is a coward. It hides and lurks and sneaks. It gains an unfair advantage before you even know that you are in a fight. And TO fight cancer is in itself a battle—taking in a poison to kill a poison. Cancer does not readily give up its unwilling hosts. Cancer is a bully and a thug.
I hate cancer. I want to tell it to its face just how much I hate it. But cancer wouldn’t hear because cancer has no ears. Cancer is only a mouth, always eating.
And besides, cancer doesn’t care.
We can’t always beat cancer, but we can fight. We can fight with our money and our treatments and our research but we can really fight it by doing the opposite of what cancer does. WE CAN CARE.
We can care about the stories
We can care about our loved ones.
We can care about the joys.
We can care about the losses.
We can weep with those who weep and we can rejoice with those who rejoice.
We can care.
Our caring will not destroy cancer, but in some small way, our caring can redeem it. (Click to Tweet) We can take something with no value and no goodness and we can find stories of hope. We can find strength we did not know we had. We can find friends to cry with and care with and care for and care alongside. We can take something wholly bad and let God transform it. He may not take it away. He may not ease the suffering. He may not answer our prayers the way we would like.
Our caring will not take away the anger, not all the way. Our caring won’t make God’s plans make sense or stop us from asking him why. Our caring doesn’t make cancer EASY.
But maybe it can dull the sting. Maybe we can rise above this ugly, horrid inhuman THING by being humans who care. Cancer doesn’t care, but we CAN. (Click to Tweet)
Sometimes I write about things from a rational or even theological perspective. This? Is not that. Because sometimes I just write from the raw emotions of my heart. We are dealing now with my husband’s sweet mom moving out of chemo and into hospice. You can read more about her HERE or HERE. Do you have someone struggling through cancer in your life? Are YOU? Do you have a story of survival or a story of hope? I’d love to hear them all these days.