The God of Difficult Places
I thought it was going to be a normal phone call.
The tone in her voice let me know this conversation was going to be anything but normal. We bypassed small talk about the weather and current events and took a deep dive into the primary reason for the conversation. “I have cancer,” my mom said.
Those were three words I did not expect her to say ever again. She was an eight-year breast cancer survivor and had been declared cancer-free. “This is not supposed to be happening,” I thought to myself.
It felt shocking and unreal to hear those words come from her mouth. My initial response was anger with God. How could You allow this? I said in my head. Then I reviewed the facts.
My mom needed support, but I was an only child.
My mom needed me to be close to her, but I lived in a different state.
And my mom was in her late 70s and still had a lot of life ahead of her.
The situation seemed so unfair. I felt alone, abandoned, and betrayed as I grappled with the news of her diagnosis.
Everything in me wanted God to just make it go away.
