In the year 2000, I found a golf-ball-sized lump in my neck. Not having swallowed any golf balls recently, I decided I’d better see a doctor.
Dr. Yamagata was the opposite of the cold-but-efficient Asian doctor stereotype. He was friendly and laid-back, with a hopelessly disheveled office. He felt my neck and said, “Nothing to worry about,” then scheduled a routine MRI.
When I returned three cuticle-gnawing days later, Dr. Y said he should probably do a biopsy (extract the golf ball from its hole). I asked to see the MRI Report. “I tell you what you need to know,” he replied, and then left the room. The Report was still on the counter, so I scanned it. The word “lymphoma” jumped off the page and floated around in front of me.
I spent the rest of the day reading up on my new roommate. The facts were disturbing: non-Hodgkin lymphoma, one of the deadliest forms of cancer (in 31 flavors) has an alarmingly efficient kill rate. My wife and I prayed hard. That evening, the sheer preciousness of time with my clueless daughters (“Why is Daddy so happy?”) filled me with joy. We played like there was no tomorrow.
Because there might not be.
The days leading up to surgery were among the most transformative of my life. I was already a believer, but the possibility of imminent death pushed God from always-in-the-picture to dead center, obliterating all previously “important” issues. My prayers evolved from “Please don’t let it be cancer!” to “I trust you, Lord, but…” to “Your will be done.” By the night before surgery, I was oddly excited. I might survive, I might not. But if I didn’t, I’d have a year, give-or-take, to love the hell out of everyone!
The next morning they rolled me into a waiting room with several other pre-oppers. A skinny young minister approached: “Excuse me, would you like me to, um, you know, pray with you?”
I told him I’d been doing nothing but praying, but would be happy to have him join me. He said it was his first time as a chaplain and admitted he was terrified. So I asked him if he cared, and he answered, “Oh, yes!”
“Great, God’s got everything else covered,” I assured him, and then asked about his ministry and family. He gratefully gushed. I was grateful, too, for having something else to focus on. Then I prayed for him, and when the orderly wheeled my gurney away, the chaplain shouted, “Thank you. You really helped me!”
I awoke with my wife’s hands around mine. Minutes later, Dr. Y came in looking unusually alert. My tumor, a dead ringer for lymphoma, he admitted, was actually a benign form of Rosai-Dorfman Disease, a condition only about 600 people on the planet had ever had. Its sole product: cancer-free golf balls. I was relieved, of course.
But also strangely disappointed.
I hadn’t needed to make peace with God—we were friends already—but I’d spent a lot of time preparing to die for him, to fully accept his will. After all, I had cancer. But then I didn’t. Yes, I was grateful for my dress rehearsal for death–it showed me what was in me, what and who I really valued, and allowed me to prepare to die for God (not as hard as I’d thought). But it also prompted me to work on something much harder:
To fully live for him.
I love how God carried you through this. Thank you for sharing! I recently had a “cancer” scare, too. I was set to get my tests on a Friday afternoon, but they were coded incorrectly so I had to wait until Tuesday. The first night was the worst, compounded by sleeping apart from my husband because of his lingering hacking cough post covid. I had a small army of my besties praying for me. Night 2 was different. God was doing something in me, which I see you can understand. Readers digest conclusion: I’m fine, which I found out on Tuesday. Whew and thank you, Jesus!
Amen to that, Bonnie!
Thanks be to God for bringing you through this difficult experience. And thank you for sharing your journey (thus far) with this disease. AND thanks for reminding all of us that trusting in God is hard but necessary. May God continue to bless & keep you.
Thank you, and likewise, Joannie.
John Piper had a similar scare with real cancer and he wrote a book about what God showed him, Don’t Waste Your Cancer. It’s encouraging to me to see the grace of God at work in the midst of such a scary diagnosis. Thy will be done are the four words of complete surrender. Thank you for sharing Mitch. You have lifted many eyes upward to our only source of help and hope.
Thanks and blessings, Debi.
Although I don’t have a serious illness, I am getting older and realizing my days are limited. That realization has made me take notice of everything around me, and everyone, and what can I do to make this place better and people feel better in whatever brief time I may have. God is working.
That’s a wonderful perspective, DK.
Beautiful story Mitch.
Thank you, Alegria.
I loved your encounter with the hospital chaplain!
Me too, Liz. I remember it fondly.
Good story👍🏾. The strength of our faith and character are truly front and center during the times we come face to face with our mortality.
Incredible story. xxoo
Aw, thank you, Cheryl.
Absolutely, love, love every word written. Mitch, beautiful 💜 I believe you experienced an “Abraham on the mountain” moment. Thank God for the Ram🙌🙌🙌 Thank you for sharing 🤗
Amen, and thank you, Denise!
We can’t help but wonder why God tests us! I’m happy all is well with you.
Thank you, Mary.
What a blessing that experience was/is to your life today. We can always remember those moments when time stood still and we had a choice to make. When you’re not in control, it is scary, but when we submit to His will, what peace!
So true, Valerie.
Mitch,
Yes. Maybe He allowed this to draw you near to finish the rest of your life.
In Christ, Gary
Gary Avants Forbear Productions * *garyavants66@gmail.com garyavants66@gmail.com
Thank goodness
I will never look at The Great Golf Ball™️ at EPCOT the same way again.
;>)
I felt my stomach tense reading your post. Brought back memories of my cancer journey. But knowing God, and praying to Him for His Will, His choice, makes these dances with death easier. It is amazing what God can do in us during life’s struggles. I’m glad your death was averted. God isn’t done with you, or me, yet.
Thank you so much, Janet, and I’m glad your death was averted too! Let’s faithfully finish the course God has laid before us.
I’m sure it was God who rang the bell– having answered my prayers leading to my wife being finally cancer free. I’m sure your prayers also helped to make the difference, Mitch. I’d like to think so.
Art
Thank you, Art, and I’m so glad to hear your wife is cancer free.
Anyone who anticipates a life threatening diagnosis and comes through it as you did-with little more than a scar and a band aide-can better empathize with others who get bad news that’s really bad news. I don’t doubt that God put you in the hospital, in part, to help the hospital chaplain. 🙂
That was indeed a sweetly ironic moment, Nancy, an irony not lost on God, I’m sure.
I’m glad to hear that you had a successful surgery. You’re friendship/relationship with God is priceless.
Living for God has many benefits and rewards.
As you continue your walk with our Lord, I pray that you will hear Him speak to your heart, fill your mind with wisdom and give you the strength to do what He created you to do!
Thank you, and likewise, Cora.
You’re welcome Mitch.
Enjoy the weekend.
You too, Cora.
Love this post, Mitch, and the fact that the golf ball was NOT cancer. I had a similar scare 12 years ago and a week of gnawing my fingertips and loving the hell out of everyone. I was told I had pancreatic cancer – limited time – and I was oddly calm. I thought, “Well okay, this is God’s story for me – I’m going to make it a heroic one.” But it turned out to be a shadow on the CT scan. One anxiety producing shadow! And I too was a little disappointed, and yes I too was grateful for the dress rehearsal. He was tapping me on the shoulder saying, “Pay attention to what’s important, will you dear girl!” And I am – paying close attention!
Can’t help but think of that old expression, “Afraid of his/her own shadow,” Joanne. I’m so glad you weren’t, and that instead you did pay attention, dear girl!
Powerful testimony. Thanks for sharing.
My pleasure, Beverley.
This is such a terrifying experience … but how wonderful that you you experienced such peace when you didn’t know what the outcome of the surgery would be. Thanks so much for sharing this.
My privilege, my friend.
Ps 90:12 – So teach us to number our days
that we may get a heart of wisdom.
The perfect verse, Todd.
We always knew you were special but one in 600 puts a number on it!
;>)
And it was the Lord who stood by you through it all. For most of my life I know it’s fact that you can rely on the Lord as well as your Guardian Angels and none of them will every let you down. Anything unusual comes up I pray to the Lord. Anything good happens in my life I first look up toward the heavens and say Thank you, Lord.
A wise first response, Rasma.
Wow! The grace of God.
Indeed, Meghan.
Thanks for sharing your story, Mitch. Scary. But obviously God has more for you to do! Glad you are well!
Thank you, Peggy!
Glad this had a positive outlook!
So glad it was only a rehearsal. God is so good in how He gently leads us to rely on Him. God bless, Mitch!
Thanks, and you too, Nancy!
That’s a very moving story. I’m glad you have more time.
Me too. Thanks, Chris.
God is so sweet. Scares are no fun until I’m on the backside of them. Then I see God’s sweetness and grace. Living for Him is the natural consequence for most. I’m so grateful your here to share this all with us. Take care Mitch.
Thank you so much, and amen, Anonymous.
Reminds me of my last stroke (the 6th) in 2007.
Fully expecting to see an angel to explain what “wheels in the middle of wheels with eyes covering them” were as well as answer a lot of other questions, I was reeeally disappointed to wake up after surgery and hear the beep-beep of a monitor and see ceiling tiles.
My first thought, literally, was, “Well, crud, I’m still here!”🤠
Guess he still has some plans for me. “Okay, Father, YOUR will be done.”
Exactly, C.A.
What a powerful testimony, Mitch. None of us know exactly when we are departing earth and a dress rehearsal is not a bad thing to go through. Good that the news was good and you had more time, Blessings!
Thank you, Hazel.
You’re welcome, Mitch!
Beautiful!
Thank you, Meonn.
Wow, Mitch! This was quite a scary experience. I’m sure it has changed your perspective on so many levels.
I saw you had posted it in the past, but I don’t remember reading it. I read your posting from 2019 and got carried away reading the comments. You had an encounter with someone who challenged your faith which drew me in further. I loved reading your responses because it helped me to know how to engage with those such as this man. Bill loved apologetics. With GMO, he had to talk with those of other religions. You did a great job conversing with this man.
And, I’m so glad you are still here and that the scare was just that.
Aw, thank you, Mary. I’ve been re-posting some 5-years-and-older posts because so many of my subscribers haven’t seen them (I usually re-edit them a bit too). But it’s a pleasant surprise to hear that you found something helpful in a comment string from back then. Blessings, my friend.
Praises.