Stronger Than Chemo

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“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” Isaiah 43:2

Three years into our marriage, Marty and I moved to the little vacation town of Onekama, where we had met, where we were married, and where we had numerous friends … in the summer.

That first fall, as one by one the families we knew headed back to their winter homes, I had just one friend who was a full-time Onekama resident: Georgine.

Georgine and I had been in the chorus for a musical in Manistee the summer before. We had carpooled to rehearsals and had got to know each other while driving to and from the theater.

But now Georgine was battling cancer in a hospital in Grand Rapids. I wanted to visit my friend and sing some songs with her, in the hopes that some music would cheer her up. This is how one day I found myself taking a road trip with Georgine’s mom.

Even before being a mother myself, I knew that “when Baby Bear hurts, Mama Bear hurts.” So, that day as we took the three-hour journey, I let Mama Bear pour out her hurt in a detailed account of her daughter’s ordeal.

Chemotherapy had been a nightmare. The first chemo shot had resulted in hours of uncontrollable vomiting and “dry heaves.” Mama Bear wept, recalling how she had watched helplessly as her daughter had suffered, seemingly to the point of dying – or wanting to. That day we were making a point of getting to the hospital early, in hopes of having a good visit before the dreaded second shot.

But when we arrived Georgine was in tears.

“I tried to tell them to wait, but they wouldn’t! They insisted on giving me that stupid shot!” she sobbed in frustration. Her mother was visibly upset, and I was wondering how soon the ordeal was going to start.

Glancing down, I saw a large glass bottle by the bed with a clear, pink liquid dripping into it from a tube; apparently, Georgine’s lungs were filled with fluid. I averted my eyes from the unpleasant sight and back to my friend and tried to smile as I greeted her. Georgine seemed both glad to see me and apologetic that I had come all that way just to witness her distress.

But so far, the worst thing happening was the anticipation of a looming trauma. I got out my guitar and asked Georgine if she’d like a song; she said she would. Her mother stood by her, seemingly holding her breath, and I determined that we were just going to make the most of our visit for as long as we could.

As I began to sing, I saw a slight smile on Georgine’s face as she closed her eyes and took in the music. Before I knew it, I saw her lips moving, and soon a soft soprano voice joined mine.

As I kept playing, we sang “Amazing Grace,” “This Little Light of Mine,” and other old, familiar hymns and vacation Bible school songs we knew. Georgine’s voice got stronger, and from the corner of my eye I noticed the fluid was flowing more steadily into the glass jar. I realized that the more loudly Georgine sang, the more her lungs would pump it out, and the more it was cleared away, the stronger her singing grew, pushing out even more.

It was practically gushing by the time Georgine was singing “O Holy Night.” It wasn’t even close to Christmas, but according to Georgine’s mom, she’d sung that solo every Christmas Eve at her church, so I’d decided I wanted to hear it for myself.

At one point, I realized some members of the hospital staff had gathered in the doorway to listen. We could sense the presence of God, and His light seemed to envelop all of us.

I don’t remember exactly how long we stayed, but it was a long visit, and by the time we left, everyone’s spirits were up. Georgine never had any reaction to “that stupid shot,” and Mama Bear was definitely happier and more relaxed as we drove back to Onekama.

When our friends are sick, we pray for their healing. Sometimes those prayers get answered the way we want to see them answered. Other times, not so much. But the child of God is never abandoned, and even when we “walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” we know we’re not alone. Georgine went to be with her Savior a few weeks after that visit. Although many people were disappointed, there was no doubt that the Lord had been with her throughout the journey. Even along the dark road she was on, He gave her occasional bursts of light, glimpses of heaven, right up to the moment she received her ultimate healing. That day at the hospital I was privileged to witness one of those bright spots, a kind of “rest stop” in the race. As we worshiped our Savior and Friend and just basked in His presence for a little while, we could look forward to the day we’ll be with Him forever.

Prayer: Lord, this life can be very hard, as You well know. Thank You for not being a distant, unconcerned god. Thank You, not only for what You suffered for us, but for being with us in our own trials, reminding us in so many ways, that even though the road is hard, we’re not walking it alone. Thank You for Georgine and all the “cloud of witnesses” who have made that journey and are cheering us on as we still struggle toward the finish line. Help us to finish well, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

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Published by seekingdivineperspective

I am a forgiven sinner and adopted child of God, seeking to see life from His perspective - as opposed to the world's flawed perspective - and living my life accordingly.

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33 thoughts on “Stronger Than Chemo”

  6. Hi Annie, I shared your post tonight with a Christian brother who needed to hear it like I did. A couple of days ago Peg and I went through a very difficult day and I was given a glimpse of what I was not prepared to see. Later that night while in prayer I was reminded that Jesus knows our emotions very well because He himself went through it. He will meet us exactly where we are. God is faithful at so many levels. Your witness of God’s grace touched my heart. Blessings!

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  11. Oh my, crying in the car as Todd drives us home from a Costco run. This is beautifully told from start to finish, Annie. One day I hope I can tell you how I so intimately connect with this, right down to Georgine’s name. Sending a big hug and love. Thank you. ❤️

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  13. As you say, Annie, sometimes the Lord doesn’t answer the way we want, but thankfully, He always answers the way that’s best. And I love how He gave Georgine a reprieve that day as she sang praises to Him with you. I look forward to meeting her in heaven.

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    1. Thank you, Terri.

      Today I realized the Lord is still using that story. I had been meaning to send a link to one of Georgine’s children to read it, but I’d kept forgetting. This morning, I finally did it, and the timing (GOD’s timing) was perfect. It “just so happened” that Georgine’s son was in the hospital this morning with a friend who was dying of cancer. He said the story really ministered to him. I encouraged him that he was a blessing to his friend and suggested he might sing to/with him. 😉 He said that in fact, he was going to, because another friend had just walked in with a guitar!

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