Season of Blessing (34 page)

He wept until the wee hours of morning and prayed and wrestled with God. Finally, around three
A.M
. he felt a peace fall over him. It wasn't a peace that he would have the answer he sought. God wasn't making that promise. It was only a peace that God would walk with them through this shadow of death, and that they should fear no evil. It was a tall order, Harry knew, and he wasn't sure if either one of them was strong enough to follow it. But he had committed to trying, just as she had.

C
HAPTER

Sixty-Four

The next morning
Harry and Sylvia were quiet as they started their day over breakfast with tired eyes and long faces. “We have to tell the children,” Harry said.

“I know, but not yet.”

“When?” he asked.

“I think I need to spend some time in God's Word,” she said. “I need to soak up all the strength I can. I need to find verses about why God lets us suffer, about death and dying, about what the future holds and whatever else God decides to show me. I need to be ready for their questions.”

Harry rubbed his eyes. “That's a good idea, Sylvia. I'll do it, too.”

“I was thinking that, once I feel I have enough strength, I want to call the neighbors over and have a dinner party, and try to be upbeat and positive as I tell them. And I want to call the children and tell them the same way. I don't want them to see us like we were last night, or even like we are right now. I want them to see a godly woman continuing to serve God even in the dying season of her life.”

“It's not your dying season,” Harry said. “It's just a dark season…but there's going to be light again.”

“There's going to be light again whether it's my dying season or not,” she whispered. But she couldn't be happy about that just yet.

“I wish I didn't have appointments today,” he said. “I don't want to see patients.”

“I want you to go.” Sylvia took her plate to the sink. “I'm just going to stay in today and study the Bible. By the time you come home I'm hoping I'll feel better.”

She spent the day weeding through the Bible, searching for passages that would give her comfort, passages she could pass on to others to give them comfort, too. By that night she still wasn't ready to tell her children or the neighbors, so she and Harry spent the time in prayer.

Harry took the following day off, and he spent the day with her poring through the Word. Finally by early afternoon Sylvia thought she could manage the announcement.

One by one she called Cathy and Steve, Tory and Barry, and David and Brenda, and invited them over for a dinner party that night. Nothing in her voice warned them what was coming. She didn't want it to be some horrible surprise. She just wanted them to see a smile on her face, a positive attitude, hope shining in her eyes, when she told them the bad news.

She set about to cook for them. While the lasagna baked in the oven, she called her children.

Heartbroken, they both said they would drop everything and come to be at her side, but she told them it wasn't necessary. She would let them know if things got bad, but until then she would just be pressing on with the things she had to do. All she needed from them now was their prayers.

Then she and Harry set about preparing for the dinner party. They hummed praise songs as they worked, decorating the house with fresh flowers, putting out hors d'oeuvres, arranging the tables, buttering the garlic bread.

By the time the doorbell rang, she was quite sure that she was ready.

Tory and Barry were the first to come over. Barry and Harry sat in the living room watching a baseball game that was almost over, while Tory helped Sylvia in the kitchen. Then Brenda and David showed up and David joined the guys in the living room, rooting for the Atlanta Braves as the last inning of the game wound down. Brenda came in and picked up a celery stick to crunch on.

“So how's the job going?” Sylvia asked her.

“I love it. Since it's summer and we're not doing school, I'm getting the work done earlier every day. It's working out great. I owe it all to you.”

Sylvia waved her off. “I didn't do anything.”

“Yes, you did.”

The doorbell rang and they knew it was Cathy and Steve. They waited a moment until Cathy buzzed into the kitchen with hugs for everybody.

“Cathy, Brenda was just telling us how great her job is working out.”

Cathy slid up onto the counter and looked at Brenda. “Isn't Sylvia a genius for giving the doctor the idea?”

Sylvia laughed. “Common sense, my dear. Those doctors have their minds so busy with people's diseases that they can't focus on little things.”

“How does David feel about it?” Cathy asked.

“Fine now.” Brenda glanced out the door to the men congregated around the television.

Cathy pulled open the oven and peeked in at the contents. “Mmm, Sylvia. You outdid yourself. The bread is almost ready.”

Sylvia pulled it out and set it on the stove.

They chitchatted until the game was over, and when they heard the guys cheering in the living room at the victory of the Braves, Sylvia decided it was time to take the food to the table.

“All right, guys. Everybody come eat.”

They headed in and took their places around the table, and Harry led them in a prayer. His voice broke as he spoke to God. He asked God to bless the meal and the conversation, and to give them all the strength they needed to get through the coming week.

Finally, they sat down and began chattering all at once as they filled their plates and passed the bread and salad. When they'd finished with their desserts and were ready to leave the table, she asked them all to assemble in the living room. She had some news for them, she said.

Harry helped her clear the table as the others quietly assembled in the living room, whispering. Harry took her into the kitchen, pulled her into his arms, and held her tight. She told herself she couldn't cry. She had to put a smile on her face and say this with bright eyes so that they would not feel dismal about what she faced.

Harry held her hand as he led her back into the quiet living room. They sat together on the love seat, as all six of their guests stared at them.

“What do you have to tell us?” Tory asked her.

“I bet I know,” Brenda said. “Sarah's pregnant again. Right?”

Sylvia shook her head. “No, not yet.” She looked down at her hands and realized they were trembling. “It's medical news.” Her smile faded and she knew that her face was giving her away.

“Medical news?” Cathy stood up. “Oh, my gosh, Sylvia. What is it?”

She brought her face up. “Well, we found out that the cancer has spread to my liver.”

Dead silence.

She looked around from one pair of shocked eyes to another. Brenda's eyes were already filling with tears, and David's face was turning red as he gaped at her. Tory looked angry and shook her head as if this couldn't be true, and Barry put his arm around her as if to support her. Steve got to his feet and slid his hands into his pockets, and she could see his jaw popping under the pressure.

Cathy's mouth hung open. “Sylvia, what does this mean?”

“Well, it's all right really. It's not as bad as it sounds.” She knew they weren't buying any of it. She tapped Harry's leg, passing the baton to him.

“She's about to start chemo again,” he said. “It'll be a lot more aggressive and it will continue until the cancer is gone.”

“Oh, no,” Brenda whispered.

“Is it still in the bones, too?” Tory asked on a wavering voice.

“Yes, it is, and it just keeps spreading.”

She knew they all wanted to ask her what the prognosis was, what her chances were, how long she had to live, so finally she decided to address those points one by one.

“The prognosis is very iffy, guys,” Sylvia said, “and the doctor wouldn't give me odds. Some survive this and some don't. And as far as how long I might have to live, it could be anywhere from twenty days to twenty years.”

Tory collapsed against Barry and buried her face in his chest. He held her tight and she could see the tears taking hold in his own eyes. Cathy backed against Steve, and he slid his arms around her. Brenda seemed frozen with a look of horror on her face. David looked down at his knees.

“I wanted to tell you like this, because I wanted you to see that I'm okay and that I'm willing to do what I have to do to live. But if I don't live, God is still in control, and whether he plans to pull me out of this or take me home, I trust him absolutely.”

David looked up at her and she met his eyes. She could see the questions reeling through his mind.
How can you trust?

She uttered a silent prayer for David.
Lord, help me to have enough trust to make a difference in his life before I go
.

She cleared her throat and went on. “Now I know how things are going to be after this,” Sylvia said. “You're all going to be upset, grieving my loss before I'm even gone, praying for me constantly, bringing me food and books and articles on alternative medicines. And that's all fine. But what I really need from you, and what I'm asking from you now, is that you don't cut me out of your lives just because you think I'm too ill to hear the daily activities. I want you to come visit me even when I'm sick. I want you to tell me what's going on in your lives. I want to know about every one of your children and what they're doing and what they're thinking and how they're acting. Those things keep me going, guys. I love hearing them and I don't want to be left out. And I don't want to always be talking about cancer. In fact, if I never hear the word again, it will be fine with me.”

She saw the pain on their faces. They grieved already. They would go home tonight and cry and lie awake and wrestle with God.

She had never felt more loved. Her heart broke for them.

“It's going to be okay,” she said. “All my life, I've told others about the principles of God. That he is faithful. That he supplies all our needs. Now's the time for me to test those principles, and prove whether I truly believe them to be true. We talk big, until our own rough spots come. But I intend to be a testimony of those principles, whether God chooses to heal me or not. God will not fail me now.”

Her eyes met David's, and she saw the questions, the amazement.

Cathy got up and came over, sat down, and hugged her so tightly that she thought she would break. Then Brenda came, then Tory.

She wished she could spare them the pain.

When the couples had finally gone home, Sylvia felt a surge of relief as she turned back to Harry. “There. It's done.”

“You did well.”

She shook her head. “Maybe I should have told each of them privately.”

“No, I think you did it exactly the right way. They saw you smiling. They saw your hope, your strength. They saw what you're made of.”

That night they fell exhausted into bed. There were no more words to exchange. Harry just held her as she fell asleep in his arms.

C
HAPTER

Sixty-Five

Annie didn't
take the news well. Cathy had taken her into her and Steve's bedroom when she got home, and told her what they'd learned.

Annie grabbed a pillow from the bed and hugged it against her. “No, Mom, it can't be. Tell me it isn't.”

It was as if Cathy had just told her that she, herself, had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. “Honey, it's true.”

“Mom, she's just got too many things to do. How could this be?”

Cathy pulled her into her arms and wept with her. “Honey, I know how much Sylvia came to mean to you when you were in Nicaragua, but she wants us to know that God is faithful and he's still in control.”

“But I can't stand to see her suffer. I thought it was over. Oh, Mom…”

Cathy pulled back and looked into Annie's face. She hated seeing her daughter crushed like this. Her own grief was multifaceted. It wasn't just for Sylvia, but for herself and for the neighbors…for all those children who loved her from Nicaragua…for Annie.

“We're not going to give up hoping. We're going to keep praying for her and know that pretty soon this will all be behind us. This different chemotherapy she's going to try might really do the trick. We'll just have to have faith.”

Annie grabbed a towel out of the laundry basket and wept into it, then flung it down. “This is worse than when Joseph was sick.”

Cathy shook her head. “I don't think so, honey. I think it was horrible both times.”

“But Joseph came out of it. God healed him.”

“He sure did.”

“Don't you think he'll heal her, Mom? Don't you think if we have enough faith that God will honor that?”

“God always honors faith, honey,” she said, “but his ways are not our ways. And death is something that comes to all of us.”

“But Sylvia's too young. She's just got too much to do. I don't think God would really want this.” Annie plopped down onto Cathy's bed, grabbed a Kleenex out of the tissue box. “Mom, do you think this is something from Satan, that he's afflicted her, cast this disease on her somehow, just a form of spiritual warfare to keep her from doing the work she's supposed to do?”

Cathy thought that over for a moment. “I don't know, honey. I'm not smart enough to answer that question.”

“I mean, God doesn't give people cancer, does he?”

Cathy looked up and saw Steve standing in the doorway. She hoped he could see how ill-equipped she was to answer questions like this. “Steve, come in. Annie has questions. We all have questions.”

He nodded. “I have them, too.”

“But you're the one who knows so much,” she said. “You know the Bible way better than I do.”

He got onto the king-size bed with them, leaned back against the headboard.

“I know what you're gonna say,” Annie muttered. “You're going to say that cancer happens because of the Fall. But that doesn't explain anything to me. Why do people always say that?” She wiped her eyes roughly.

“I don't know if that's exactly what I was going to say, but that is part of it. The sin in the Garden of Eden did bring an awful lot of problems into the world.”

Annie punched the pillow she held. “But it wasn't Sylvia's fault that Eve ate the apple. Why does
she
have to pay?”

Steve's face was compassionate as he looked at the forlorn girl. “We all have to pay.”

“But I don't understand why that has anything to do with her getting cancer!”

“It's why cancer is even in the world,” Steve said. “Before the Fall the world was a perfect place. No disease. No shame. No sin. And then when sin came into the world, all of a sudden we have death and decay. We have a world that gets worse instead of better. Things break down,
bodies
break down, people get sick and they die.”

Annie slid off of the bed and slammed the pillow down. “Then it's better never to have been born at all.”

Cathy got up and pulled her daughter into her arms. She felt Annie's sobs as she held her.

“Some people might think that,” Steve said quietly, “but we're here for a reason, Annie. Sylvia has done a lot of good while she's here. You wouldn't suggest that the world would have been better off if she'd never been born.”

Annie looked up. Her face was wet and raging red. “No, of course I wouldn't suggest that. But maybe to
her
she would have been better off.”

“I don't think even she would suggest that,” Cathy said.

Steve propped his arms on his bent knees. “The fact is, this world is not our home, and these bodies are not our home. Maybe God makes us real uncomfortable in them before he brings us home so that our new glorified bodies will be all the more exciting.”

Annie still wasn't buying. “But what about us? The ones they leave?” She turned back to Cathy. “Oh, Mom, what are we gonna do without Miss Sylvia?”

Cathy didn't know.

“What am I saying?” Annie asked. “It's like I've given up on her. Like I've already buried her. I'm not giving up. I'm going to keep praying for healing.”

Cathy nodded. “You do that, honey. I'll do it too.”

They hugged again, and Cathy heard the bed creak as Steve got off of it and stepped across the room. He put his arms around both of them, and the three of them cried together.