Next Steps (by guest Marla Price)

I saw my friend’s social media post. She was giving an update on recent medical developments. The results of her biopsy confirmed her doctors’ suspicions: cancer.

Here was yet another friend whose life would now be touched by a diagnosis that brings with it so many questions. What will recovery from surgery be like? How will I cope with treatments? Will I ever feel normal again? What are my next steps?

Those of us who have traveled the journey know what it is like. We know what it is to wait for a phone call with the results of a test. We know what it is to pray for peace in the midst of our anxious striving with the unknown. We know what it’s like to inform our family and friends of our diagnosis, knowing that it, too, will take a toll on them. We know what it is like to go to a doctor’s office where we decide our course of action.

We proceed with the treatment plan, which is made under the guidance of medical professionals, with our loved ones by our side, while we hold on to the promise that we are all surrounded by the sovereign power of God. We look forward to the time when the end of the treatments will come. We have our surgeries. We recover.

We continue with our “next steps.” There will be follow-up appointments. We will always document dates and diagnoses on our medical histories. We will have check-ups and necessary tests, because we know their value in helping us find and treat a potential problem.

We learn a new normal. We might wish for the old “us,” but if the truth be told, the deeper wisdom, spiritual insight, and newfound appreciation for life itself is greater than any return to our original self.

We learn that a cancer diagnosis is not the end of the world. Rather, it is the beginning of a journey to learn what it truly means to live each day depending on God’s strength, grace, and guidance. It is the realization that each day is a gift, and each one is filled with goodness if we only have eyes to see it.

Long past the conclusion of our diagnosis, treatment, and recovery, we continue to use the lessons learned to experience more meaningful lives. We stop wasting time, and we start doing the things we have always dreamed of. We come to see ourselves as blessed for having endured the trial and thankful for going the distance.

We get to the point that we might feel the same way as King David did after God had made a promise to establish his kingdom forever: “Then King David went in and sat before the LORD, and he said: ‘Who am I, Sovereign LORD, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far?’” (2 Samuel 7:18).

Then we read a social media post, get a prayer request, or receive a text or a phone call. It’s someone we love, and they’ve received hard news. Our next steps might involve reaching out to them to let them know they’ve got someone praying for them, and if they ever want to talk about surgeries or treatment plans, there are lots of us out there who’ve been there and done that.

We know how far we’ve come. That verse is a little like ringing the bell at the end of treatment, or it’s like that final visit with your surgeon when you are told, “I’ll see you in a year.” The five-year mark comes, then ten, then twenty.

As for me, I’m still working on months. Starting with testing in September 2024, a diagnosis in November, and surgery in February, I’ve not made it an entire year.

But that’s okay. One day at a time is enough for me. Each day brings new mercies in this beautiful, wonderful life. It is another chance to thank God for His peace, His presence, and His power. It is an opportunity to help others who are also traveling this road.

And with each day, with each step, I pray, “Thank you, Lord, for bringing me this far.”

I have a feeling it won’t be long before my friend says the same thing.