Jul 01
There’s quite a big anniversary being celebrated this week.
No, I’m not thinking of the exciting 250th anniversary of our nation’s birth on Independence Day, July 4.
For me personally, an even more momentous anniversary occurs two days earlier. July 2 is the 36th anniversary of my surgery to remove Stage 3 colon cancer, diagnosed when I was 36 years old.
That’s right, I will have lived as long A.C. (After Cancer) as I did B.C. (Before Cancer).
Wow…so many emotions and memories swirling in my 72-year-old brain.
Without cancer I wouldn’t have developed a deep friendship with my oncologist, Dr. Marc Hirsh and his wife Elizabeth (pictured at this year’s Pink Out fundraiser for cancer patients).
Without cancer I wouldn’t have been an oncology patient advocate offering free emotional and spiritual support to thousands of patients and their caregivers for almost two decades.
Without cancer I wouldn’t have become a bestselling author of multiple books published by Tyndale House.
Without cancer I wouldn’t have met many of you.
And without cancer, I might not have learned how very wrong I was about God.
Back in 1990 from my hospital bed, the future looked bleak.
My chance of survival was maybe 40-percent. Odds were that my wonderful husband, whose first wife died from ALS, would bury another spouse. Chances were my sweet daughters would grow up without a Mommy.
Feeling afraid and overwhelmed, I fumed to God: “You are making a really big mistake here. And there’s nothing You can ever do to make up for this because it is too awful.”
But I was the one who was making a really big mistake. Even though I had been a Christ-follower since 1972…I was limiting God’s power to my meager human understanding.
My hope was just to see my daughters, then ages 8, 10 and 12, grow up. Instead I have had the precious privilege not only of seeing them mature into beautiful adults, but of getting to know and love seven amazing grandchildren, ages 8-15. 
Thirty-six years ago I simply wanted to get well quickly. Instead God allowed me to suffer through my treatment (constantly nauseous and allergic to the primary chemo drug) so that I might be equipped to minister to suffering people–hundreds of thousands, according to my book sales.
My desire was to put my cancer ordeal behind me and return to a normal, happy life. Instead this disease has been a main focus of my life for more than three decades as God continues to show me that He “is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us.” (Ephesians 3:20)
I am so humbled to see how the Lord has used me in spite of me and how He has used my cancer story for His glory. I don’t know why He allowed me to “beat the odds,” but of this, I am certain:
“The voices of a million angels could not express my gratitude.
All that I am and ever hope to be, I owe it all to Thee.” (Andrae Crouch ©1971)
As you celebrate America’s 250th anniversary, I hope you will join me in praising God for my 36th “cancerversary.”
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Please open in your browser to hear (and perhaps sing along to) “My Tribute (To God be the Glory)” with Natalie Grant and CeCe Winans.
 
Jun 17
Ever have days (weeks, months?) when you just can’t seem to feel God’s presence?
It’s not because you’re out robbing banks or tripping little old ladies. In fact, you’re not really doing anything “wrong,” and actually may be you’re doing the “right” things–praying, reading the Bible, worshipping with other believers. But the connection just isn’t there.
That was my dilemma recently. I kept going through the motions and even though I’m not a real touchy-feely person, what I really longed for was to feel God’s loving presence.
Reading more scripture didn’t change my mood, talking longer to God hadn’t helped my malaise, and singing louder didn’t do the trick.
I kept watching for something big to produce the close, connected feeling I missed.
And then out of nowhere, when I didn’t expect it…God answered.
I had switched my morning devotional book at least three times in recent weeks as I searched to find one that would “scratch the itch” in my soul. Finally, I went to my basement library and again looked through all my old devotionals. I pulled out a small hardback copy of ALL I NEED, which I had read probably a couple of decades ago.
I went back upstairs to my La-Z-Boy recliner and hot tea, book in hand. I turned to that day’s reading to see if it seemed like I might connect with its message.
It was entitled “HIS DAILY PRESENCE.” Nothing flashy, eye-opening or heart-stopping there, but it seemed relevant. I couldn’t remember when or how I had gotten this book so I turned to the front pages for a clue.
The simple inscription in beautiful penmanship, which I recognized right away was from my dear friend Carolyn Dunn, who passed away in November. I always called her my mentor, but had forgotten her words to me:
To Lynn, a sister mentor–Carolyn
The dam of unshed tears broke as I wept openly for my precious friend. I hadn’t said anything to anyone about how terribly I missed her and wished I could talk with her. 
But God knew. And His whispered message was loud and clear: I see your grief. I’ve heard your cries. I love you and gave this message today to remind you.
God-whisper. God-wink. Godsend. People have all kinds of names for these divine “coincidences.”
Whatever the term, it reminds me of when the Jewish prophet Elijah was feeling overwhelmed, exhausted and ready to give up. He cried out to God and this is how the Almighty responded:
“And as Elijah stood there, the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper.
–1 Kings 19:11-12
As the song below says: “You whisper love when I feel lost, You whisper peace at any cost. No shout or sign, just quiet grace, Enough to hold me in this place. Your silence isn’t absence, Lord— It’s where Your deepest truths are stored. You speak in whispers, calm and true. And in the quiet… I hear You.”
Dear friend, if you are yearning to hear God’s voice: Keep on asking. Keep on seeking. Keep on knocking. He will answer…and it just might be a whisper.
P.S. As I was writing this blog, I realized it would post three days before what would have been Carolyn’s 82nd birthday. Another Godwink?
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Open in your browser to hear the short song “God Whispers” from Ambient Sounds.
Jun 03
SIX…WHOLE…YEARS
That’s how long it’s been since Dr. Marc Hirsh, my dear friend, oncologist and former boss, was diagnosed with a rare, stage 4, incurable neuroendocrine tumor of thymic origin. 
Neither the specialists nor Marc expected him to last six weeks, let alone six months…and certainly not six years.
On May 22, 2020, Marc went to the ER with severe chest pain and great difficulty breathing. Imaging showed a 12 cm tumor in the center of his chest had invaded his heart and collapsed one lung. The next day after seeing the reports, Marc instructed his employees to start closing his 31-year-old oncology practice. The next month he devised his own protocol of radiation/hormone therapy/oral chemo and began his healing journey.
Regular follow-ups have miraculously shown the tumor to be smaller (less than 6 cm) and stable.
Last month Marc turned 75 and this week he and Elizabeth celebrated their 46th wedding anniversary. In these past six years, they’ve welcomed two adopted granddaughters, traveled tens of thousands of miles in their RV, and allowed a new dog–a 90-pound golden retriever named Boondock–to steal their hearts.
“I feel like the past six years, in some ways, are the most enjoyable of my life,” Marc says. “I loved being an oncologist, but it was hard work and stressful being in solo practice.”
And while he misses his patients, Marc (an accomplished, multi-instrument musician with a great Bob Dylan voice) really enjoys the extra time he has to relearn classical music, as well as play old favorite Messianic Jewish worship melodies. He’s even taught his only grandson to play the saxophone and describes him as “quite talented.” And after not having enough lung power to play his own sax for the first few years after the diagnosis, Marc once again has picked up his “baby” alto saxophone.
“I still get short of breath and a little light-headed if I forget to stop playing soon enough,” he says with a laugh, “but I’m enjoying it again.
“I’m living like I don’t have cancer,” he adds. “Psychologically, I feel like I’m cured and just slowing down because I’m getting older.”
20th anniversary
When I asked Marc what he’s grateful for in these “extra” six years, he quickly answered: “Definitely more time with Elizabeth, our (two) children and (five) grandchildren…and having time to do things outside of medicine.”
In 2023 another challenge appeared as Elizabeth was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. Her left side is greatly affected and she needs Marc’s assistance with the tasks she no longer can perform by herself. Prescription medicine has helped with some of Elizabeth’s symptoms and she is managing to push through the unpleasant side effects.
At his 5-year “cancerversary” milestone, Marc told me: “I’m incredibly grateful to God that He allowed me to be here for Elizabeth after all she’s done for me.”
When I first blogged about Marc’s diagnosis, I never imagined I would give semi-annual updates for six years. Now that he is finished with check-ups at Hershey Medical and will be followed by local physicians instead, there won’t be any more “updates” from me. Think of it as “no news is good news.”
Marc describes his life-shattering diagnosis as now feeling like a “distant nightmare,” adding “I barely remember it and feel like I’ve totally moved beyond it.” 
“I think the thing I’m really grateful about is that I just feel a lot more peaceful, much less anger and frustration with other people,” he explains. “I wouldn’t say I feel closer to God, but it’s more of a peaceful relationship.”
To which I say, thank You, Jesus, for six…whole…years.
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Please open in your browser to hear Rich Mullins, Marc and Elizabeth’s favorite Christian artist, sing “You’re My One Thing.” Songwriters: Rich Mullins © 1989 Edward Grant Inc.
May 20
Our extended family of 14 (seven adults and seven kids) always spends a fun-filled vacation week together and this year we’ll be heading back to a lakeside home in the Poconos Mountains (a.k.a. foothills). I think most of us are counting the days until we can relax, refresh, renew…and catch more fish with Grandpa!
Ever feel like you need a vacation from whatever health trial you and your family are facing?
You probably do (or you know someone who does)—at least a mental one, if not a physical respite as well.
Believe it or not the chemo room at Dr. Marc Hirsh’s office, where I worked as a patient advocate for nearly 20 years, became a mini-vacation from illness for patients when we threw elaborate parties for two days near Halloween.
One year it was a Sesame Street theme and I obliged as Miss Piggy. (For the record, I “porked up” with eight pairs of rolled up socks under my skirt and down my blouse!)
Another year we dressed up as Wizard of Oz characters with good and bad witches giving chemo. I covered my whole yellow-clad body with a long piece of yellow shelf paper. 
“Follow the yellow brick road!” I announced in my best Munchkin voice as I led patients back to the treatment room.
You’ve probably heard of the non-profit organization Make-a-Wish which grants wishes for children facing a life-threatening illness—often a trip to Disney World or a chance to meet a famous athlete or movie star, but there also are programs for adults.
If you search “free wish-granting for adult patients” a slew of them come up. This list will get you started on vacays for all kinds of serious illnesseshttps://cancercarenews.com/more-cancer-freebies/wishes/ But don’t make the mistake I did once by searching for “adult wishes” as that’s an entirely different category!
My friend Barb Titanish and her wonderful H.O.P.E. ministry, have created a beautiful farmhouse retreat in south-central Pennsylvania where folks can have a vacation from cancer. The 18-acre site has a beautiful farmhouse, a swimming pool, peaceful walking trails, a tranquility garden and a fire pit . Folks can come for three to five days. https://hopelifeline.org/application-for-haven/
“Whether you are just diagnosed, starting a new treatment or at the end of life, you need to give yourself a break,” says Barb.
You also can create a mini-vacation from illness right in your own home. Declare every first Friday of the month to be “Cancer-Free Friday” where you only watch funny movies and no one is allowed to mention the “C” word. Or plan an outing for the day—a backroads ride with a picnic or an ice cream stop. Perhaps a mani-pedi and a tea room. Or maybe an afternoon hitting golf balls and eating BBQ.
Ask yourself, what would help your mind/body/spirit to take a vacation from whatever you’re facing? Pray about it and ask God how you or someone you know can make it happen. People cannot read your mind so let those who have asked to help you know what you really need. You deserve a break today…and I’m not thinking McDonald’s.
When they walk through the Valley of Weeping, it will become a place of refreshing springs.
The autumn rains will clothe it with blessings. Psalm 84:6
Adapted from Peace in the Face of Cancer ©2017 by Lynn Eib
P.S. I’d love for you to leave a comment about vacation plans you have for any kind of R&R this summer!)
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Open in your browser to hear Refresh Me by Leeland
May 06
For me, May is a month full of mournful memories. Of difficult prayers not answered the way I had hoped.
Mom & Dad 50th anniversary 2002
I’m willing to bet you have some months, holidays or seasons which remind you of prayers not answered the way you hoped.
Why, God, did I even get pregnant if the baby was never going to be born? Why couldn’t this have happened on another day besides Mother’s Day?
Why, Lord, did my Dad have to be without his family by his side? Why couldn’t he live four more hours until Mom arrived?
Why, God, couldn’t my mom’s infection have been found sooner and treated? Why couldn’t she have lived a little longer and held two precious great-grandchildren?
I’m sure you have your own “whys.”
Why this diagnosis? Why this financial struggle? Why this job loss? Why this grief?
I can honestly say that even though God didn’t give me any real answers to my questions, He did meet me in the pain.
Alone in my hospital room following the miscarriage and D&C surgery, I finally was able to cry. People telling me that I was young and would have other children had not soothed my grief.
1977 pregnant with Danielle
Don’t they realize I want the child I carried inside me for three months and already loved?
So in my despair that no one seemed to understand, I told God I needed to hear from Him.
I randomly flipped open my Bible and touched the right-hand page. (I do not normally recommend the “flip-and-point” method of scripture reading!)
My eyes fell on James 1:2-4:
Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
Reading those verses that Mother’s Day brought me a peace unlike any other time I’ve ever read them. I was still grieving my circumstances, but I knew the God of the Universe had heard my cries and was at work in my life. I could endure in His strength.
When my mother was in her last days resting peacefully in her own bed, I put a CD player on the headboard and a stack of CDs next to it—a mix of music she loved: barbershop 4-part harmony, instrumental jazz and worship tunes. I encouraged the caregivers to choose and a play a CD.
When she passed away, I walked into the room and fell to my knees sobbing by her bedside. I can honestly say it was the deepest sorrow I have known. And then I heard it:
The CD playing an old a cappella version of “In Christ Alone”–one of the songs I want at my funeral.
“My source of strength,
My source of hope
Is Christ alone.”
I had not put in that CD and honestly didn’t remember the song was on one of the discs.
But God “remembered.” He knows how much that song means to me and He supernaturally arranged to have it playing as He welcomed Mom Home.
So, my weary friend, take all your questions to your heavenly Father and then “fall in the arms of the only One Who knows the reason for every hard season.”
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Please open in your browser to hear the encouraging song Hard Season by Matthew West.
I’m a newspaper reporter-turned-author. And I’m a passionate encourager, but always a truth-teller. I worked for nearly two decades in a unique position as a patient advocate in my oncologist’s office and the Cancer Prayer Support Group I founded in 1991 is the country’s oldest such faith-based group.
