by Michele Mann
“Mr. and Mrs. Mann, I’m so sorry to tell you, but your son has a golf-ball size mass in his brain.” My husband and I listened carefully to the young neurosurgeon explain the results of the CT scan. “We’ll have to do an MRI to confirm, but it’s likely lymphoma.”
My heart began to race as the reality of the word “cancer” permeated the air like a thickening cloud. As I fought to keep my emotions at bay, my mind was clear and my words steady and sure, “But you aren’t sure. Am I correct? I mean, you don’t know conclusively.”
“That’s correct,” the doctor cautiously responded. “But it looks cancerous.”
I looked at the doctor, then looked at my husband, Jeff, and with the confident childlike faith only God can give I said matter-of-factly, “We don’t know what we don’t know. And we can’t be afraid of what we do not know. We rest on what we do know.”
We followed the doctors out of the back room of bad news and returned to Nate’s room in the ER. I gazed at my 11-year-old son, who just a week ago was putting together the Lego sets he had gotten for Christmas. On New Year’s Day he woke up with a slight headache we thought was the onset of the flu. When the headache persisted, but no other symptoms appeared, we thought it might be sinus related. As the headache worsened and couldn’t be relieved with the usual pain meds, we visited the ER, and got a migraine diagnosis. After migraine medications didn’t touch the pain, we knew we were dealing with something more sinister. We returned to the ER early on a Tuesday morning, and by midmorning got the CT results—a mass was sitting in the center of Nate’s brain.
As they wheeled Nate down the hall to the MRI room, Jeff and I followed closely, holding Nate’s hand and shielding his eyes from the bright lights that had become unbearable for him. The anesthesiologist and the radiologist met us. They whisked Nate away as the nurse pointed us to a small waiting room.
As we took our seats in that little room, I kept repeating to Jeff, “We don’t know what we don’t know. We rest on what we do know.” And what did we know? There is a God. He is real. He is faithful. He is personal. He is good. He is full of grace. He is healer. He gives eternal life. He rescues from the penalty of death. He gives life here in this temporary place. He promises He will prepare a permanent dwelling for His kids. He knows every day ordained for us. He knows the end from the beginning. I know Him. Jeff knows Him. My son, Nate, knows Him. And He knows us.
After we brought our list of “knowns” before our Abba, we both heard the same gentle whisper “Now rest. It is well.” We went to our phones. Jeff found the old hymn, and I found a newer rendition of the song. We listened to the words over and over and over again. As I listened to the words, I recalled the story I’d recently read about the author of the hymn.
Horatio Spafford was a successful Chicago lawyer. He and his wife Anna had five children, a son and four daughters. The Spafford’s lost their young son tragically and suffered financial loss in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. In 1873, Spafford sent his wife and daughters ahead on a vacation to Europe. He was kept behind by business, but promised to join his family soon. He found out a few days later that the ship had collided with another vessel. His four daughters perished. As Mr. Spafford was traveling to be reunited with his grieving wife, his ship sailed over the very place his daughters perished. It was at that place, out of a grieving heart, the words to “It is Well” were birthed.
As I prayed and pondered in those dark moments, I heard my Abba whisper, “Do you trust me? Are you willing to walk out what you say you believe? Will you surrender Nate to me? Can you say ‘It is well’ even if he has to walk a road of suffering? Even if the road he walks ends in death? Do you believe my words? Do you trust me?”
It was at that moment, I let the grief and shock and pain well up and overflow. In agony, I cried out to God from the depth of my soul. I did not like what my God was asking of me. But, like Peter, all I could say was, “To whom else shall I go? You alone have the words of eternal life.” (John 6:38) I have staked my life on the truth of Jesus Christ, the resurrection and the life. I believe He died so those who accept the forgiveness offered through Him might live. If I believe it, then I must trust what He says is true. So I laid my son, my beautiful boy, on the altar and surrendered him to the One who loves Him more than I could ever imagine. My flesh cried out for God to spare my son, but the Spirit in me knew the answer to the question of surrender must be “Yes, Lord.” There was no other choice.
After that heart wrenching hour of surrender, the Lord began to whisper His Word. As Nate was wheeled out the MRI back to his room, all I could think was “I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth.” I kept thinking, “Am I crazy? Here I am waiting for potentially devastating news and all I can do is give praise to God. This isn’t natural.” Indeed it wasn’t. Looking back now I realize it was supernatural. Supernatural grace. Supernatural peace. Supernatural love. At those moments, as we waited in the dark, God poured out His Spirit. He met us moment by moment.
When the neurosurgeon told us the MRI did seem to indicate lymphoma, but there was a slight chance it could be a brain abscess—he just needed the attending neurosurgeon to look at the results to confirm—we blessed the Lord. And we prayed. We asked all our friends and family to bombard the heavenlies on Nate’s behalf. Just as a child is free to ask her father for anything, I knew I could boldly go before the throne of grace with my request. But now my request was in full submission to my Father’s will. I had to trust He knew what was best. Even if I didn’t like the answer.
Two hours after we got the initial diagnosis, the attending neurosurgeon whisked in Nate’s room. Dr. Rocque (pronounced “rock,” so not kidding, only God) sat by the bed, and briskly announced, “Well, it looks like it’s a brain abscess. The only way we can tell is if we do surgery and puncture the mass. If we get pus, we know it’s an abscess. But we need to do surgery now. The risk is great if there is an infection.”
Jeff and I sat by Nate’s bed and stared at the doctor. We weren’t sure we heard him correctly. We asked questions. Dr. Rocque patiently answered. Then we prayed over Nate and sent him off to surgery. After he left we just looked at each other and wondered aloud, “What is God doing?” Eventually, we wandered to the hospital lobby where so many precious friends were waiting for us, standing with us during the darkest hours. God’s presence was so tangible, so real. His grace so abundant. It’s hard even now to describe the peace in the midst of what should have been our most anxious moments. After two hours,
we got the call from Dr. Rocque. As he came off the elevator to meet us he was smiling as he announced, “We have pus!” We rejoiced and we laughed at God’s goodness and mercy. We wept over His grace. We blessed the Lord at all times. His praise was indeed on our lips.
After an exhausting two weeks of tests to determine the cause of Nate’s abscess, and lots of trial and error in finding the right antibiotics to treat the bacteria that had invaded Nate’s brain, we were able to head home. As we loaded the car, the Spirit whispered, “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits.” The verse played like a recording over and over and over in my mind. I knew it was a Psalm, but had no idea which one. After we were settled in at home, I looked up the verse and as I read the words I allowed myself once again to take a deep breath and lay everything bare before the Lord. I wept tears of joy and relief and gratefulness and wonder at God’s undeserved mercies. “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy.” Psalm 103: 2-4
For years before Nate’s illness, I talked with friends about my awe of God’s forgiveness. I couldn’t believe that He would forgive my sin, that He would make me clean. It struck me often that the greater healing was not physical, but spiritual. I said the words, but now I walked them out. And I knew His goodness was no longer an ideology, but truth. Even if Nate’s illness ended in death. Even if God asked me to walk through unbearable agony. Even if my earthbound heart was shattered. He was still good. Because He had already brought me and Jeff and Nate from death to life. Even if Nate died, because of Christ, the ultimate healing had already been given. Before Nate’s illness those were words—afterward, it was reality. He is a good, good Father. And because of Jesus, it is well.
remake of Jane Eyre. It was subtle. It was sneaky. It was Satan. These innocent actions,
Our sin must be handled the same. Once God has pointed out where the sin is and that it needs to go, we must submit to His Doctor hands. He is the One who pokes at our flaw and finds how far into our flesh the darkness reaches. He is the One who pries our hands loose from our sin. Because if I am being honest, I still do not WANT to be free from my sin. It is tough to let go of addictions. Their sinuous hold makes us believe that they are a part of us and our life will not be as happy or complete without them.

What comes to mind when you think of a desert? Maybe you think of some strange lizard that you have only seen on TV, being excruciatingly hot, so thirsty you can’t even swallow, or feeling so alone that you can’t fathom that anyone else in the world knows what you are going through (or certainly not anyone who cares). Rarely do we see a desert as a place of honor to be longed for.
It is impossible to relay all the Lord has spoken and continues to speak to me through these scriptures, but one thing the Lord is compelling me to make sure we all understand is that He has us right smack dab in the middle of His hand.
and His glory. It is by “divine discipline” (Hebrews 12:5-9) the Lord draws us “to follow closely to His word” (Psalm 119:67). He wants to speak tenderly to us. Those moments we feel we can’t go on, He has truth He wants to saturate deep within our spirit. If we listen, He takes the bitterness and makes it sweet (Exodus 15).
Is it a shocking idea that you have no right to take offense?
Jesus prefaced this parable with a command (a command, not a suggestion!) to forgive a person 70 x 7 times. A person. 70 x 7. A single brother. 70 x 7. Another Christian. 70 x 7 = 490 times! Then Jesus went on to tell the story, because stories pierce our hearts with truth.
And this parable, of one who was forgiven of such a HUGE debt but was unwilling to forgive smaller offenses done to him, began to grow in my thoughts. And that plant started to thrive. I began to see the reality of my life and the HUGE amount of grace God had bestowed on me. I began to be humbled. I began to see reality, heavenly reality, through my blurred lens of self-righteousness and pride.
transforming power of Christ and of the Word of God have changed me. When the God of love has planted that seed and grown a flowering, fruit-bearing plant in our hearts, personal offenses come into perspective and we can
The reality of this life on earth is that if Jesus tarries, death is a reality. So the question comes … What will you and I do with the dash? That little line between the year you came into this world and the year you passed into eternity. How will we spend the time God has given us here on earth? The Bible refers to life as a vapor, fleeting and brief. The way we spend our days really does matter. The people that we invest in on this earth are heavenly treasures. The car you drive, the house you live in, the money (or lack of) in your bank account has no heavenly value. Jesus died that we might have life, not just any old life, but abundant life. The cross was a tremendous price for you and for me, for salvation and eternal life. The tragedy of the cross comes when we waste the opportunity He has given us to be a blessing. We were created to worship Him with every part of our being, created to praise Him with our whole heart, anything less is wasted.
I remember as a teenager and young adult dreaming about the guy I was going to marry. Like everyone I had my life all planned out. I could tell you all about my dream wedding: the dress, the colors, the receptions. What style of house we would live in. (You know the one – white picket fence.) I even had a list of possible names for my children. Life was going to be grand. Just perfect. Everything I had ever dreamed about. Except the Lord never brought the guy into the picture.
As my relationship with the Lord grew, I just took it that I was supposed to be Single. Okay, singleness is the path you have for me Lord. If that is your will I will accept it. I will enjoy life. I have friends: married and single. I can go on Mission trips and travel with friends. I’m happy. I am content. I am serving the Lord. Lord I know that you are my husband and I am your bride. Even though the Lord has provided for my needs I occasionally still long for that special guy. You know the one. He thinks you are special, opens the car door for you, handles the problems when things breakdown in the house. Lord, I might be single, but I would like someone to grow old with here on earth. Okay, maybe children aren’t in the picture anymore, but there are other options: Foster care, Adoption, maybe he’ll come with children and grandchildren. Lord, what is your plan? I know that God tells me in his Word that he had a plan for my life before I was even born. What I have had to learn is that it is HIS plan; it is not my plan. God called each of us here for a purpose. Each one of us has a different path to walk. Some walk the path of marriage, others a single life. Each of us have things that God needs to teach us and he has planned for us to accomplish.
So let me ask you unmarried ladies a question: Did you pray for your future husband? Every once in a while you hear people talking about praying for their future spouse, but have you? I can’t say that I ever did. At least not any real serious praying. Mine was more like: “Lord, I want a husband, or Lord be with my future husband.” So you ladies that really prayed for your husbands and God answered your prayer, stand up and give your testimonies. Are we even teaching our young girls and single ladies about how to pray for their future husbands? What if God doesn’t bring that special mate? Are we teaching them to still follow the path God has for them, that God still loves them, that being Single is not the end of the world, to never give up, to not to let their desire for a husband keep them from doing all that God has planned for them, that God still answers prayers? Sometimes we have to be patient.
want in a future husband. Who knows if I will ever receive a “Yes” to my prayer, but for the time being I will obey the Lord. I will pray for my future husband and the future husband of my friends that are seeking. You married ladies might want to pray some of these items for your husbands or you may want to share these with someone who is single. Pray them for your sons that will one day be seeking a young lady. Pray for the single men out there that they will turn to the Lord and become the Godly Leaders us single ladies are looking for.
If you’re like many, you may not have heard the word “doula” before. It’s a word that represents someone who helps a woman in childbirth. Doulas have been around for thousands of years and are often described like a mid-wife, but they usually aren’t the ones actually delivering the baby. Rather, the focus of the doula is on easing the mother’s laboring discomfort and encouraging and supporting her through the pain.
