Dying well and lament

It was coffee with a friend.

I could see she was on edge. She shared that the night before she had learned of the diagnosis of pancreatic cancer for a close friend. Their kids grew up together. They took family vacations together. His wife is one of her best friends. “I usually don’t want to go against God on most things but this time, I want to fight him,” she said.

My mind went back to my first encounter with cancer. It was a couple of months after I began serving at the church as a pastor for youth and children, and it was the mother of of two young girls—one in middle school and the other in elementary school. She came to my office with her husband asking for prayer and good thoughts because she planned on defeating it and surviving it. I hugged her and said I was here for them for anything.