“I have heard many things like these; you are miserable comforters, all of you!” (Job 16:2 NIV)

As a pastor who has visited over the years with many cancer patients, I have been blessed to hear mostly positive stories about how their friends responded to the news of cancer being found and treatment undertaken. Yet, it would trouble me whenever I heard those contrary stories of friendships that had disappointed—friends who had turned away and stopped visiting, or friends who did visit and left patients feeling even worse than before.

“Why should any of you consider it incredible that God raises the dead?” (Acts 26:8 NIV).

I answered my pager. “Can someone escort me to the morgue?” the man requested. As a hospital chaplain, I was glad to accommodate the young man. We walked downstairs to the morgue. He wanted to see the body. Oddly enough, he did not want to enter the room. He stood at the door, and to my surprise, commanded the corpse to rise up. I struggled to act nonchalant and pretend this was a common occurrence. We then made small talk while walking to the hospital exit. He asserted, “I just had to give it a try.” I’ll never forget the encounter. I had to respect the young man’s audacity to at least give it a shot

“You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and have their being” (Revelation 4:11 NIV).

God gave me a love for health and fitness before He gave me a love for Himself. As a result, I have spent most of my life studying all things exercise. I am highly involved with the “fitness culture.” I run half marathons. Most of my friends embrace a healthy lifestyle. I love to read fitness blogs and watch videos to find great ideas about new exercises. I spent nine years of my life studying the effects of exercise on the human body. Exercise is good for you. And I get that.

“The Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. And he was in the wilderness forty days, being tempted by Satan. And he was with the wild animals, and the angels were ministering to him” (Mark 1:12-13 ESV).

No one is above temptation—even our Lord Jesus. Immediately after He was baptized, He was tempted. Jesus was tempted to use power inappropriately and to worship Satan, who is a false god.

“Jesus said to them, ‘Come and have breakfast.’ None of the disciples dared ask him, ‘Who are you?’ They knew it was the Lord. Jesus came, took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish” (John 21:12-13 NIV).

Cancer and strawberry jam. Let me explain—in my grandma’s garden, there were long rows of strawberries. I can still see my grandma bent over, picking gallons and gallons of strawberries. She would take some of those strawberries and make the best strawberry jam you have ever eaten. It was delicious on homemade biscuits. But then, when I was three and half years old, my childhood cancer showed up. I struggled to take the chemotherapy pills. I hated the taste, and I hated what the chemo did to me.

“When they landed, they saw a fire of burning coals there with fish on it, and some bread” (John 21:9 NIV).

Many have written of cancer’s connections to post-traumatic stress. When exploring my own cancer journey, I came across this idea of “post-traumatic growth” from two psychologists, Tedeschi and Calhoun.1 The idea is that people who experience traumatic events can also see profound growth and development after the difficult event. Cancer impacted me so much that I cannot imagine my life without my cancer journey. My highest high and my lowest low are all part of my cancer story.

“The other disciples followed in the boat, towing the net full of fish, for they were not far from shore, about a hundred yards” (John 21:8 NIV).

As a child with cancer, the chemotherapy side effects left me unable to use my arms and legs. The neuropathy was so severe that the doctors questioned if I would be able to walk again. But about twelve years after my cancer journey … I stood there, gazing at the starting line. I was extremely nervous, but I had trained all year for this moment. This was the state track meet. My job was to run 800 meters as fast as I could and then hand the baton off to my teammate.

“Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, ‘It is the Lord!’ As soon as Simon Peter heard him say, ‘It is the Lord,’ he wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water” (John 21:7 NIV).

I love to watch those videos of military members who have been on deployment and then return home and surprise their family. Maybe it is a dad who appears at his child’s basketball game. Or maybe it is the service member unexpectedly showing up at a party. The reaction of the unsuspecting family members is beautiful to watch, because they usually do not know what to do or how to handle it. They laugh or cry or just jump up and down. It is just a happy chaos.

“He said, ‘Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.’ When they did, they were unable to haul the net in because of the large number of fish” (John 21:6 NIV).

Cancer journeys look and feel a lot like that of the kid’s book, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.1 The book explains that if you give a mouse a cookie, it will want a glass of milk, then a straw, …then the mouse will be reminded it is thirsty and wants a glass of milk and then probably another cookie.

Cancer (and any traumatic event) forces us into survival mode so that we begin to forget our bigger purposes in life. One aspect of our cancer recovery process is to “re-call” our purpose, our mission in life. “Re-call” has two meanings: 1) Recall is to remember. 2) Re-call is to call again—as in God calling you again

“He called out to them, ‘Friends, haven’t you any fish?’ ‘No,’ they answered” (John 21:5 NIV).

I was three-and-a-half years old when I was diagnosed with cancer. That means that I have spent over forty years running from my cancer experiences: I avoid doctors, strangers, aspects of my emotions, and certain wall paint colors (that look like the hospital room colors). Even now, forty years later, I become anxious driving to the city where I received treatments. Obviously, the Lord knew this—and yet He had the audacity to ask this question: “Would you become a chaplain?” Of course, I rudely said, “No.”

“Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus” (John 21:4 NIV).

The breeze, the crashing waves, the sunshine, the play. Do you love going to the beach? What are some of your favorite things on the beach? The beach can be the most lovely place. But the beach can also be a terrifying place. Many people die in the water just off the shoreline. The shore represents that small space between two different worlds of water and land. For the land dweller and the sailor, the shore represents that space of safety and relaxation.

“‘I’m going out to fish,’ Simon Peter told them, and they said, ‘We’ll go with you.’ So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing” (John 21:3 NIV).

What would you give for a normal day? Before cancer, a normal day is often boring and forgotten. During cancer, having one of those normal days would be like winning the lottery. It would be magical. What would you give to go back to those days with no chemo and no nausea and no hair loss? No concern over how you will pay your medical bills, when you can return to work, or whether the cancer has returned?

“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him” (Jeremiah 17:7 NIV).

I grew up in the small town of Salisbury, North Carolina, surrounded by lots of family. In addition to our parents, my brother and I had both sets of grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins close by. We gathered, played, laughed, argued, and cried together. Most importantly, we were there for each other.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28 NIV).

Our neighbor across the street has moved, and his house is being shown to prospective buyers. I found myself becoming anxious about who would be our new neighbors. A good neighbor is a treasure, but a bad neighbor can be a nightmare. As anxiety sought to consume my thinking, Romans 8:28 came to my mind: “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”