impossible is nothing

Alternately titled: what Kevin Garnett taught me about Jesus

Warning: This is loooong. Cut to the bottom for the details on tomorrow!


Okay, storytime. This is a lengthy story about a) my mom's cancer journey, and b) how I came to really believe that God can make the impossible possible.

Before I get to the real story, I first need to tell about an incident that happened when I was probably about 9 or 10 years old. I was sitting by my mom in church, and we heard the announcement that one of our members' breast cancer had spread to her liver. My mom gasped. When I inquired about her reaction to this news, she answered, "Well, once cancer goes to your liver, there's nothing they can do." And, in this situation, there wasn't. I was saddened by the hopelessness I witnessed that day, and I remembered it.

Fast forward to August of 2001. My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. Her cancer had been caught seemingly early (or so we thought). She received surgery and chemotherapy, which were followed by a clean PET scan. Her doctor (Dr. T) told her there was just a 15% chance that her cancer would ever return. Things went back to normal. Over the next few years Mom had her blood tumor markers checked regularly and CT scans every 6 months to monitor for any signs of cancer recurrence. The reports were always good.

One Sunday in August of 2004, our pulpit minister preached about praying "big prayers." He told a story about a guy who prayed for something even though he didn't believe it would happen (I now don't even remember what that "thing" was). The guy kept praying and praying anyway, and, eventually, he started to believe that God would actually answer his prayers. And, finally, God did. The gist of the sermon was this: sometimes God gives you a "yes" even when you don't believe He will. Little did we know how much we would need that "big prayer" sermon in the days that followed. 

The following Wednesday, Mom received a phone call from her Dr. T telling her that her tumor markers were elevated, which indicated that her breast cancer was back. I was home from college for the summer and was sitting at the kitchen table eating leftover chicken fingers when she got the call. She leaned her head against the door facing and sighed, "Oh no." And then she told me. My chicken fingers tasted like paper after that.

We didn't know where the cancer was; we only knew that it was back. Mom would have a CT scan that Friday to try to find out where the cancer was. I kept remembering that day in church when I was little, and, all I could think was, "Please, God, don't let it be in her liver." Lots of big prayers were lifted up for my mother that week. Prayers that the cancer would be in her other breast and not in some distant organ like her liver or bones or brain. Prayers that the tumor markers were a fluke and her scan would be completely clear. Prayers that her life would be spared, again. Prayers that God would be glorified through it all. 

On Friday, I stayed home while my parents went for Mom's CT scan. Jamal was at school and Tekia was with friends. I spent the morning fasting and praying and reading scripture. I read the story of Jesus and the fig tree, among others. "If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer." I repeated those words over and over. And over and over, I heard in my head the words of the father who brought his sick son to Jesus in Mark 9: "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" I wanted so badly to pray with complete faith that God would heal my mother, but what I really wanted was for Him not to have to heal her at all. I wanted the blood test to be wrong and her scan to be clear. It wasn't.

The scan that day confirmed our fears: her cancer had spread to her liver. Dr. T told my mom that it had probably been there all along; it was just too small to see on scans or affect her tumor markers until now. Her cancer was incurable. It would never go away, but Dr. T hoped she would be able to live with it like a chronic illness for several years. We knew this probably meant months or years of treatments and sickness and baldness and pain, and that it would eventually mean death. When I heard the news, I cried so hard that I physically could not stand. All morning long I'd prayed and tried to believe that God would heal my mom, but now it seemed that it was too late. Sure, God could heal her of breast cancer that was "curable." But this cancer was inoperable and incurable. Total healing was impossible, at least as far as I knew.

Within minutes, my best friend Brooks was there. Soon our living room was full of people who loved us and were as devastated by this news as we were. The new few hours were a blur of hugs and tears and prayers. Finally everyone left and it was just our family, sitting around staring at each other. I was lying face down the floor, exhausted from crying. The TV was on, though I'm pretty sure none of us were paying attention to it. But then I heard a familiar song start playing . . . He's got the whole world in His hands. I looked up and I saw a commercial that I will never forget - a commercial that I'm sure God meant for me to see. And, thanks to youtube, you can see it, too. :-)



I couldn't tell you anything else that was on the TV that afternoon, but I remember every detail of that Adidas commercial. I looked at Kevin Garnett and saw Jesus, walking around town, picking up all these broken, helpless people and carrying them on his shoulders. Some were running to him - even jumping from buildings - desperate to be in his arms. They were hanging on to him for dear life. Then there was that girl standing on the corner, who looked at Kevin Garnett as if there was no way he could carry her, too. And that's was where I was. This healing we'd been praying for had turned into an impossibility, and I doubted that God would change that. I doubted that He could carry me and my problems, too. And He was standing there, looking at me, giving me a little nod that said, "Climb on up, Callie. I've got this." And then, since I obviously hadn't gotten the message from the scriptures I'd read that morning, there it was in big, bold letters across the screen: IMPOSSIBLE IS NOTHING.

That got me to thinking . . . . maybe God actually would still heal my mom. Maybe he could show His glory better not by preventing her cancer from returning, but by healing her even after it had been deemed impossible. The sermon we heard two days later (it was like our preacher had ESP or something!) was about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego and how God didn't prevent them from going into the fire, but He didn't make them go in alone either. He went into the fire with them, and He took care of them, even in the flames.

Into the fire we went.

I guess you know what happened next, right? (Is anyone even still reading?) What happened next was that God healed my mom anyway. Her cancer had come back in one of the worst possible places, her doctor had told her she would never be cured, and God healed her anyway. There's been no evidence of breast cancer anywhere in her body for six years and counting. "He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted." (Job 5:9) 

And now here we are again, asking God to make the impossible possible. Late last August, God walked with us into another fire and He hasn't left our side. It's been a long four months, and I've watched my Adidas commercial more than a few times when I've needed a little reminder. We're not sure how this will play out, but we trust that God will be with us regardless of how He chooses to answer our prayers. His ways are higher than ours (even if ours do seem to make a lot of sense!).

Tomorrow morning at 11:15 my mom will be having her first CT scan since completing chemo. Based on the statistics of pancreatic cancer, we know that the odds are against us. Based on Mom's history, we know she doesn't play the statistics game by the rules. ;-) And based on the history of the God we serve, we know that impossible is nothing. We know He is always faithful. We pray for a clear scan tomorrow. We pray for healing. We pray that God will give us His perfect peace and that we will trust Him completely, no matter what happens tomorrow. Above all else, we pray that His glory will be revealed in big ways - tomorrow and throughout this entire journey!

I'll be updating the cyber world tomorrow via facebook and eventually the blog (when I get home to my computer). We'll get to the clinic at 10 for lab work, Mom will have the scan at 11:15, then she'll see Dr. T, and then she'll get a herceptin treatment. The clinic is usually very busy and often behind schedule, so I suspect it will probably be mid-afternoon before we know anything. Thank you for praying with us. We appreciate it more than you know.

P.S. I've never owned anything Adidas, so I'm not sure how effective that commercial really was.