That last hurdle

Hard news. Yesterday was blood test results day, and my husband’s numbers related to his CLL have gone up three points each. They were over normal anyway (hence the diagnosis), but another three point increase means a more rapid escalation than we hoped. He still feels well, and has no other symptoms, but if this continues, well, I’m having trouble thinking about it.

CLL is an odd form of cancer. It happens in bone marrow which is producing cancerous white cells, creating a problem in the immune system. Any treatment for cancer weakens the immune system, so CLL is normally not treated until those numbers reach a certain point. Then, any treatment only slows the progress; it cannot be cured. My husband hasn’t decided yet if he wants the rigors of treatment since it will not ‘fix’ it, and could make him more miserable than the disease.

He is in good spirits. His attitude is amazing, actually. He makes me think of Agnes, an elderly friend who had Lou Gehrig’s disease, a slow, relentless killer that eventually suffocates its victims. She was sweet, prayerful, full of joy almost all the time. She was not in denial and her attitude was real. Agnes showed everyone how to die.

This morning, I’ve asked God for a good word and He never fails. This is where my devotional book took me, in Hebrews 2, to this: “Inasmuch then as the children (of God) have partaken of flesh and blood, He Himself likewise shared in the same, that through death He might destroy him who had the power of death, that is the devil, and release those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.”

Jesus came to die. He shared in something outside His nature, flesh and blood, so He could destroy the power of that which eventually takes all of us who are by nature flesh and blood.

Death’s power is two-fold. These verses talk about our fear of it. Fear holds people in bondage. I remember from the past few days the exhortation to “know the truth and the truth shall set you free.” That means no bondage, not even to this fear.

I think of all the things people do in fear to try and avoid death. They don’t talk about it, and avoid any reminders of it, like aging. In fact, aging is ferociously fought, as if it were a den of tigers. Thousands of products exist because of this fear, their ads filling magazines. Fearful people try to defy it, doing dangerous things. Nevertheless, the fear of death permeates life.

The other bondage is spiritual. Because we sin, we are condemned to die, not just physical but also spiritual. Spiritual death is being separated from God, in this life and eventually forever. While some smirk and say they don’t care because they want to be ‘partying with their friends’ anyway, the fear of death still eats at hearts. We know that we deserve it, but we also don’t want it. Only those in great despair reach out for death, mistakenly thinking that even dying must be better than their current pain.

Lies about death and this gripping fear are Satan’s power. He uses them like chains, filling minds with falsehoods, filling hearts with dread. Like my husband often says, everyone is terminal, and everyone knows it.

But not everyone is held in bondage by death or the fear of it. Yes, Jesus was put in a tomb, dead, but He didn’t stay there. In dying He paid our penalty for sin, died our death and experienced separation from God for us, but He is not dead; He is alive. He came out of that tomb, was seen by many witnesses, then returned to glory where He “ever lives to make intercession for us.”

Jesus said, “He who believes in the Son has everlasting life . . . .” The verb is past tense. When we respond to His gift of salvation and receive His gift of eternal life, death becomes merely a transition from this place to the next.

Eternal life belongs right now to us who believe, me, and my husband included. Physical death cannot take it from us. All it can do is separate us from one another, for a little while.

I know all the verses about Jesus never leaving me, or forsaking me, and that He will take care of me. I know that when either of us die, we will be with Jesus, and all of life’s challenges will fade from memory. I know that a great and eternal joy will be ours.

Yet sometime between then and now, there will be trauma, sorrow, and days filled with tears. For today, it’s that part that shakes me.