The end in sight

Earlier on, I said I might tell how I reacted to the news I have cancer. Here goes. First, there was numbness and relief because the oncologist tacked the word "cure" to the sentence in which he advised radiotherapy. Second, joy. A good friend was in the same hospital because of severe breathlessness. Half a generation older than me, he has had heart bypass surgery, survived an aortic aneurysm and prostate cancer. He was the first to learn my diagnosis and he cheerily told his experience of the same diagnosis, treatment and the end of that particular problem. As my wife drove us home, I felt a brief swell of tears. My father died at 49 years from cancer. Already my life is extended way beyond his years; my experiences have been broader than his. So, I thought, if I were to die in the foreseeable future, that sense of privilege will remain. Then came a review of priorities in life. When the pressure is on, it's relationships that matter. My priorities had not reflected that. Other things seemed more important - status, income and other paraphenalia of life that dazzles most of us. Most important is what comes after all this? If I do die, then what? My few brain cells have worked on that before. I am convinced above all else that God is, God loves and God wants to relate to people. My life's work has been to promote this understanding. Jesus Christ is my hero and my master; the Bible has shown me what God is up to in his universe and what is coming eventually. So, this bold type message of my mortality has made this understanding more real, more important, more precious. If the X-rays fail, if this tumour spreads and I die, I know where I'm going. Meantime, my family, my friends, my work colleagues are all more precious than ever before. Their love surprises and supports me.