Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

We sat in shocked silence as the words washed over us, “The results were negative, but you could still have cancer. You need to see a surgeon.” Nothing can prepare you for those words. Nothing speeds up the communication of doctors and insurance networks to rubber-stamp the specialist visit. Nothing makes the interminable weeks of waiting between visits feel shorter, calmer, better. Nothing. But nothing was all we could do. Wait. Pray. Act like everything is fine. Be brave. Be strong. Have courage. Do nothing. 

I’m not wired to do nothing. I like to be prepared. I prefer to plan for the worst and be surprised by the best. I strongly believe in preemptive strikes. I don’t like being caught out. I hate not being able to fight back. I despise feeling helpless. Yet there we sat, facing an enemy we couldn’t nail down, stymied how to fight, afraid we wouldn’t win if we did. The drive home was quiet. I could barely even pray. 

Eventually, I did pray, bombarding Heaven in quiet desperation, in panic and terror, in faith and hope. Daily. Constantly. I had questions for God. What was going to happen? Why couldn’t He just tell me the results? Couldn’t He just take it all away? I mean, He could, but would He? And the biggest question, could I beat it if it was there? 

Those few weeks rank among the darkest of my life. The emotional pendulum alone nearly did me in. Faith failed, then soared, only to plummet again. I prayed, but it’s so hard to pray for God’s will when the outcome could be devastating. Waiting for the appointment to be scheduled and the results to be determined took ages. Fear ravaged the back of my mind and tore at my heart. But faith, the little I could hold on to, had me praying words similar to these, “I’m scared. I’m helpless. There’s nothing I can do, but my eyes are on You.”  

I stole those words from Jehoshaphat. He’d been there too. He and the people of Judah were facing down the massive army coming out of Edom. Jehoshaphat was terrified. The people were terrified. They came together and called out to God, reminding Him of His promises, His great works of the past, and the direness of their current situation. Jehoshaphat, in desperation, exposes the care of every soul present with these words, “We are powerless against this massive army. We don’t know what to do.” Then he follows up the admission with words that echo through time as the framework to every prayer we pray for every need we have, “but our eyes are on You for direction and help.” (II Chronicles 20:12) 

I’m there every single day, multiple times. You probably are too. Parenting is hard. Those sweet little babies grow up and develop opinions and attitudes. And teenage emotions? That’s a field of landmines! Seriously. I need wisdom, direction, and a significant dose of courage over here! General life decisions aren’t easy either. Should you take the new job, uproot the family, start over somewhere new? Should you change career paths altogether, go back to school? Should you buy the house, the car? 

Sometimes life’s circumstances put us in this place. The lack of work notice comes and we wonder how to pay the rent, the bills, feed the children. The call comes from the doctor’s office. They found something curious and need to run more tests. The knock comes at the door. There’s been an accident, a fatality. Our world is shaken, knocked off its axis. We are hurt. We are scared. We are stunned. We are stymied. The only words getting past our frozen lips echo the ones coming from Jehoshaphat in his time of terror and overwhelming need, “I don’t know what to do, Lord, but my eyes are fixed on You for help, strength, courage…a miracle.” 

Two years after my first visit to the surgical oncologist, I headed to his office for what I hoped would be my last visit. Although they hadn’t found anything worthy of surgery, they had kept me in care. I’d been there every six months for exams and imaging. He taught me to read the ultrasounds. I was anxious. A lead weight of fear lay in my stomach. My head said the fear was unreasonable. My instincts said otherwise. In the middle of the exam, he stopped, retraced his path, tipped his head down as if to concentrate even harder. My instincts were right. He’d found something new. The news was disheartening. Another second opinion. A possible biopsy. Come back in 3 months. More imaging. More exams. More watchful waiting. More courage. More faith. More standing still.

It was eerily familiar–both the situation and my prayers. As I waited for lightning to flash across the sky, the earth to shake and a voice to audibly speak from the heavens, I remembered the response God gave Jahaziel in answer to the prayer I had stolen from Jehoshaphat, “Don’t be afraid. Have courage. This is my battle, not yours. You don’t need to fight. Stand still and watch Me work. I’ve got this.” (II Chronicles 20: 14-17) I bet they had some questions about that! Have courage and stand still? How does that work? Were they supposed to just sit and wait for the armies to come and wreak havoc? If they had questions, it didn’t alter their response. They threw off the spirit of heaviness, replaced it with praise, and courageously marched out to fight a battle by standing still. (II Chronicles 20:1-24; Isaiah 63:1)

It wasn’t the first time God told His people to be courageous and do battle in a way to which they were unaccustomed. They silently marched around Jericho once a day for six days. No one shot arrows at them from atop the walls. No soldiers came out to confront them. The city remained locked up tight. No one could get in. No one could get out. On day seven, when surely the residents of Jericho thought they were completely insane, they marched seven times. But that day was different. That day was battle day. At the sound of the priests horns and the deafening shout of the people, the walls fell down. They didn’t even have to break a sweat. (Joshua 6:1-20) Courage had translated to obedient faith in the God who had never let them down, even if He asked them to do nothing but march into battle making noise. It was worth it.

Gideon knew this too. By Divine instruction, he led his men into battle armed with ram’s horns and clay jars. Their only orders were to follow his lead, blow the horns, break the jars, and shout. At their peculiar actions, chaos ensued. The Midianites panicked. Some fled. Some fought each other. God gave them the victory. They just had to have faith exhibited by the courage it took to walk into battle armed only with ram’s horns and clay jars. (Judges 7:14-22) It was worth it. 

August marks three years since I’ve had to visit the surgical oncologist. The last time I was there, the measurements showed the mass had shrunk without treatment. The doctor didn’t have an explanation. I did. Courageous faith in God and standing still. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Admittedly, in spite of courage and faith, I still panic every time I think I feel something new or different. I know that if there is a next time God’s plan might look different than the last one. I also know the only hope for any circumstance, the only peace in turmoil is to courageously place my faith in God and trust Him to fight for me. It will always be worth it. 

Today marks the last time I’ve prayed the words, “I don’t know what to do, but my eyes are on You.” There are still situations in my life that are outside my control. I am still concerned about my children. I’m still faced with life’s circumstances. I still have questions and concerns. I am still flooded with peace every time my heart courageously whispers those words. When I forget to do so, when I try to fix all the issues, manipulate circumstances, fight battles on my own, I fail. As I war between the flesh and the spirit, I am reminded that true courage, true faith in God, lies in handing it all to Him and following His lead even if it means standing still. It means embodying the reminder in Isaiah 30:15, “When you return to Me and rest in Me, you will be saved. Quietness and confidence in Me will give you strength.”

If you look around, you are going to see a lot of concerning things. Life is full of unforeseen, unpleasant, unsettling circumstances. God is none of those things. When everything has gone pear-shaped, He remains unchanged. (James 1:17) His hand isn’t shortened. (Isaiah 59:1) His compassion doesn’t end. (Lamentations 3:22) His fantastic care for His people still transcends everything else. So cast your cares on Him. Throw those burdens over on the Lord. (Psalm 55:22) Give Him your insecurities, your fears, your helplessness. Ask for His help. Follow it. Even if it means doing nothing. Even when it means sitting still. Even if it seems silly or crazy or you don’t agree. Still your spirit. Hush your mouth. Be courageous. Have faith. And watch God do what He has been doing for thousands of years, win battles for His people. (Psalm 56:3; James 1:5; Philippians 4:6-7; Exodus 14:13)