Last, But Not Least...

It's been a great month of highlighting the other three authors who put together the lastest devotional, His Grace is Sufficient...Decaf is Not. Each one of these women is phenomenal in her own right, but together I think we created a little lightning in a bottle. I hope you'll agree. I also hope you'll purchase the book, and get a few copies to give away at Christmas too! Every book sold will help to further the research into diagnosis and an eventual cure for ovarian cancer.

To punctuate the month, I'm going to give you a little peek into one of my own devotions that I wrote for the book. Enjoy!

Here, Wear My Armor!

“Saul replied, “You are not able to go out against this Philistine and fight him;
you are only a young man, and he has been a warrior from his youth.”
1 Samuel 17:33

It took a lot of talking for David to convince King Saul that he could slay the giant. Even then, nervous Saul placed his tunic around the boy, and added a suit of armor and a bronze helmet. But David tried to walk around in it and kept falling over from the weight of it. He tossed it all off and went after Goliath armed with just a sling and a stone.

How many times have we faced down challenges that look as big as that giant? We stand there, with our sling and stone, wishing we had a king to stand behind us, some armor or a helmet to protect us.

As a cancer survivor, I often equate David’s story to my own battle against the disease; although, when that phone call came to identify ovarian cancer as the Goliath now standing before me, my attitude was far more Saul than David. I yearned for dependable armor, or a big old helmet! When I pulled back the band of my sling, I realized I had no little stone to load into it.

Then God’s grace sent Dr. Alison Calkins; beautiful, smart, compassionate. She looked me straight in the eye and answered every one of my six thousand questions. She let me cry without judgment and, when my weight was more than the radiation machine would allow, she even figured out how to build a support. Through her and her team, God fashioned the little stone I needed to take one brazen shot at cancer.

I’ll never forget the day Dr. Calkins told me, many weeks later, that the giant wasn’t getting back up again. “You and I are going to be together for the rest of your life,” she said with a smile as she explained how she envisioned my post-cancer care. “And I’m happy to tell you…that will be a very long time.”

Even now, more than six years later, I still feel queasy while I wait at the light at Martin Luther King Boulevard to turn into St. Joseph’s Hospital for my annual check-up. At first, I remember the loneliness of those treatments, the fear and anxiety and desperation. But as I park in a spot marked for Radiation Therapy Patients Only, and the glass door slides open and I spot Connie or Alex or Ann Marie, my heart starts to beat again. Excitedly, I anticipate getting my first look at Dr. Calkins, knowing she’ll be the reminder God brings that the giant has been slain.

I’ll bet, every now and then, David spotted a small stone at the side of the road, and couldn’t help but smile, remembering what he and God had done. If only I could tuck Dr. Calkins into my pocket and carry her with me as a reminder: By the grace of God, giants are slain!

Today’s Prayer: Father God, I’m humbled by Your grace as I face the towering giants in my life. You are always prepared for them, and You always provide just what I need for the fight, whether that be a stone or a doctor with a sweet, promising smile. Amen.

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