Marilyn Matters

Last Friday, I attended the going away celebration of my dear friend, Melissa. God had given her 10 years, fighting cancer but living, to spend with her family. But last Sunday, May 23, 2010, He gave her ultimate healing by taking her home to be with Him.

During the open mike portion of the celebration, I had given a brief account of a story and poem I had once shared with Melissa as a segue to sharing how this dear friend had the gift of making others feel that they mattered. Later, the pastor read a testimony Melissa had given in a much earlier service during another bout with the cancer that would eventually take her. In that testimony she had shared the story and how it and others had impacted her.

I thought I would share that story to the best of my ability here today. Shortly after my brother’s death in 2003, my mother, Marilyn Masters, discovered she had a rare and aggressive form of uterine cancer. She had surgery, but later found the cancer had already metastasized. She endured chemo for a while and was eventually sent home to hospice and given 6 months to live.

She lived 11 months, and her story would take up a few pages, but we’ll save that for another post. For this one, I will point out that Mom had a period of time, in her grief for her son and her worry over what her own death would do to my father, she wondered if she really mattered. Did she really make a difference in people’s lives for the Lord? Was God pleased with her? Did she really matter?

During this time, showcasing God’s wonderful sense of humor, Mom kept receiving those address labels places send free with a plea for money. The odd thing was that each one of those labels arrived (from different places) with, not the name Marilyn Masters, but Marilyn Matters! One missed letter sent a message to Mom that she could not ignore: Marilyn Matters! Our God is so good.

The following is a poem I wrote for my mother during this time and later replaced the name to send to Melissa. I wrote this poem so that anyone could substitute their own name and hang on to the knowledge that they, too, matter very much to God.

Marilyn Matters!

My friend, I trust you to our Lord,
For I know: Marilyn Matters!
He made you special in His plan
For He knows: Marilyn Matters!
Each day, each pain, He chose for you
‘Cuz He knows: Marilyn Matters!
So as you rest beneath His wings,
Remember: Marilyn Matters!
As each loving detail falls into place,
Remember: Marilyn Matters!

By Angela Masters Young © 2005

Maybe you wonder about your significance in this world at times, but God and I want you to know that you matter very much. God has a plan for you; He created you for a special purpose, and He walks with you through whatever that plan entails, holding you, loving you, singing over you in joy as He works out His perfect plan for you – because you matter!

You may use this poem (changing the original name), but please give me credit for it if you do. May God richly bless you!

This poem was included in a blog post by Amanda DeCosta. Her post can be viewed here.

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Tears Fall

Today I find out my friend is no longer responding. Death hovers over her, awaiting it's moment. But death will have no sting because she is one of God's beloved children. Her body will remain here, but her spirit and soul will soar to the heavens to be with her Savior and all who have gone on before. We will weep our selfish tears, but underneath will be joy and the peace that passeth understanding, knowing the coming reunion and the joy she now feels, having left cancer and pain behind to dance in the light of God.

Tears Fall

Tears fall like rain from these eyes in pain;
Seeping out from the never-ending well.
And God collects them one by one,
Saving them with those that fell before.
I feel His arms holding me tight,
Offering His comfort and strength,
To His broken-hearted, hurting child.
Then I realize my tears are not alone;
The tears of God fall next to mine.
He weeps, not for me, but with me,
Not withholding the pain I feel, but
never leaving my side through the storm.
The pain will pass, my tears dry up,
And life will continue on.
But this time with my God will
Change me forever as I rest in
His faithfulness once again.

Prose by Angela Masters Young c 2010

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Numbness arrives: God is still good!

From tears, tears and more tears to numb, the cycle of grief continues. Denial isn't possible for me, but I wish it were. I'd like to believe no one I love would ever die of cancer. I'd like to believe no one I love would have to watch someone he or she loves die of cancer. I'd like to believe a cure will be found in the next 24 hours. Yes, this is what I'd like to believe.

The reality, however, is that cancer strikes everyone sooner or later, either through a personal journey with it or watching a loved one go through it. Maybe it's just me, but it seems that cancer is on the rise. I don't know, but it is certainly in the rise in my relational sphere. Another wonderful lady I met at a support group passed away last month. A beautiful, godly friend passed away a couple days ago from brain cancer. A cousin is fighting the battle as we speak. Add these to the names in the last post, and you still don't have the full picture.

I don't honestly know how I am going to deal with the impending death of one of my dearest friends, a beautiful, godly ray of sunshine in an often dark world, but I know from experience that somehow I will. I may not understand it, but God always comes through, not when I want it, but when I need it.

Thank you, Father, for being the unchanging, merciful God you are! Because you have shown me your love, mercy, peace, forgiveness and more through the trials of life, I have learned that I can lean wholly on you at all times for all things. I thank you for those trials because they have brought me to a deeper understanding of your love and deepened my relationship with you. When I face pain or uncertain days, I take the time to look back and remember all those other times when I didn't know how I would go on, and there you were!

Sometimes you cried with me; sometimes you laughed as you heaped unexpected blessings in humorous ways; sometimes you just walked beside me, hand in hand, lending your silent support; sometimes you picked me up and held me in your comforting arms; always, you were there!

Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on, let me stand
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn
Through the storm, through the night
Lead me on to the light
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home

When my way grows drear
Precious Lord linger near
When my life is almost gone
Hear my cry, hear my call
Hold my hand lest I fall
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home

When the darkness appears
And the night draws near
And the day is past and gone
At the river I stand
Guide my feet, hold my hand
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home

Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on, let me stand
I'm tired, I'm weak, I'm lone
Through the storm, through the night
Lead me on to the light
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home

--lyrics by Rev. Thomas A. Dorsey (1899-1993), melody by George Nelson Allen (1812-1877).http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Take_My_Hand,_Precious_Lord

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Cancer stinks, but God is good!

Today I found out a dear friend is going on hospice care. She has been fighting cancer for over 10 years, and her body is just too tired to fight any more. Another writing friend just lost her husband to cancer. My best friend from childhood is watching her father die of cancer right now too. I lost my beloved mother and grandmother to cancer. The list goes on.

In each case, the type of cancer was different, but it really doesn't matter what type it is. I hate all cancer, and I hate what it does to people, taking lives much too early. This insidious growth starts small and spreads, taking over until it gets a vital organ and takes its victim. Despite major loads of cash going to research a cure, it still claims lives every day.

Do I have a point? I don't know. I just know the grief is so overwhelming sometimes. But, this one thing I know: God is good. God didn't bring cancer, and He is always there to bring beauty out of sorrow when people turn to Him. My mother's death was absolutely beautiful, even though it was also horrible.

I may not understand it all, but I know the one who does. I rest in His faithfulness, knowing that He cares and He will be there for all. And in the end, He will scoop them up and take them home to be with Him where they will hurt no more. Then some day it will be my turn. Jesus will wipe the tears from my eyes, and I will see all those who have gone on before in Christ. This is what gets me through all the pain inherent in a sinful world. Come quickly, Lord, Jesus!

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