Finding God's joy in pain

Wow, Victoria, you are really strong, and your mum is a strong woman. This is the statement I get when friends call to check on me regarding my dad's health. Is it a question of strength as I thrive on finding peace and happiness in the wake of my dad's diagnosis?

The Genesis

As is my custom most times when I am working or making dresses, I always listen to music, podcast or audio bible. On this fateful day in May 2020, I listened to the book of Psalm and towards the evening, this word, "why is thy soul downcast, trust in the Lord for I will yet praise the Lord stood out because it was repeated across three verses between Psalm 42 and 43. While I was still meditating on the verse, little did I know that God was preparing my heart for the news I was about to receive. Some minutes later, I received a call from my younger sister informing me that my dad had been diagnosed with cancer of the jaw bone. The medical term is just too long. When the call ended, I cried so much because I could not fathom how it happened. And then the word of the Lord came to me, why is thy soul downcast, trust the Lord for I will yet praise Him. I tried to dry my tears, but it just wouldn't stop flowing.

We went to see a specialist he was referred for chemo. The chemo sessions were unsuccessful. My sister was informed she would be contacted with an available date for surgery. After about a month of no communication from the hospital, my sister contacted the hospital only to realize they had a wrong number and was unable to reach her. The hospital booked him for another surgery on the day of the scheduled surgery, they had to run a COVID test. He tested positive, and they couldn't proceed with the surgery. He was asked to come back in 2 weeks. My younger sister, her husband, and my mum had to go for the COVID test because my dad was staying with them, but it was surprising that they all tested negative. My dad had to go for a test again, and he tested negative. But on going back to the hospital, they were informed that senior doctors were on strike indefinitely.

On 5th May 2021, my dad travelled to the state and my elder sister took him for consultation, the oncologist advised against surgery because the cancer would return within three weeks. He also stated that there was nothing medically that could help due to the cancer stage. He was sceptical radiotherapy or chemo would work but said it was an option my dad may explore if he is willing. The doctors also said my dad had six months left.

I cried so much when my sister told me this, and I prayed so much that I even asked God to spare my dad and take my life because I couldn't imagine living without my dad. During my prayer I remember having a conversation with God. What stood out for me in the discussion was how much I loved God. He asked me if I loved Him more than I loved my father, my answer was easy – Yes. Another question, will my love for Him diminish if my dad was not healed – my answer again was No. Nothing will change about my love for God. After that day, I realized God was preparing and helping me accept whatever was to happen. After that encounter, I felt at peace. And my prayers changed from prayer stemming from a place of desperation to prayers asking God for patience, grace and above all, strength to weather whatever may come.

My dad opted to start the radiation therapy, which was unsuccessful. So he tried chemo, at this time he had lost the use of both eyes, he couldn't breathe with his nostrils as the growth had extended to the other half of his face, and he couldn't eat through his mouth. He was told he would need more food in preparation for the chemo because of how intense chemotherapy is. So to assist him, he had a PEG tube inserted. If you wonder what that stands for (PEG stands for percutaneous endoscopic gastrostomy, a procedure where a flexible feeding tube is placed through the stomach to allow nutrition, fluids and/or medications to be put directly into the stomach). After the 3rd chemotherapy session, his system failed, he stopped breathing he was rushed to the emergency. We were informed the tumour was adding pressure on his brain and he was placed on oxygen.

I remember that day I was told my dad had stopped breathing. It was a Friday, I cried through the day, the level of anxiety and panic attacks went through the roof. I was broken, I almost cursed God, I questioned my loyalty and service to him. I questioned how He who is an embodiment of love would allow His son whom He loved to be going through so much pain and suffering. At a point, I asked God to take my dad's life rather than let him go through this sickness. In previous years, God saved my dad twice from accidents that should have taken his life. On this day, I questioned why God kept him only to let him go through cancer. After my tirade, it was as though God embraced me. I was so overwhelmed by His love I couldn't explain it. I was reminded of the story of Job and how God restored to him more than he lost. God brought to remembrance all His promises towards me and my family. When it was over, I had no fight left in me; all I wanted was to talk to someone. Most of the friends I talked to and prayed with were either at work or sleeping. But God once again surprised me, letting me know He listens, and He hears, and he has got my back. A friend sent me a link to a prayer clinic for that evening. I joined the prayer and put forward a prayer request. After the prayers, the panic attack and anxiety stopped and I could be myself again.

When my dad regained consciousness, he had temporary amnesia. My mum had to sign a do not resuscitate (DNR) form. However, we did not expect it would mean no medical intervention because the hospice was brought in as soon as the form was signed. When he was taken to the hospice, my dad was placed on morphine, his food dosage was reduced, and they refused to give him water. My mum met with a Nigerian nurse who advised her to take my dad home if we are still trusting God for a miracle. She said the hospice performed mercy killing and in no time my dad will be dead if he was left there. So my mum took my dad home. It has been 8 months now and my dad is still alive even though he is unresponsive we are grateful he is still with us.

God has helped me regain my inner joy through this. Daily my family and I have been praying together for a miracle, trusting God to do what is best and relieve my father. Every day we wake up, and my dad is still alive, we thank God for that victory.

Am I strong? No, there are days and nights I cry. However, I remember that even Jesus, who knew that He would rise again after His death, still cried and asked God if there was any other way to let this cup pass over Him. If God could allow his son to go through the sufferings, how much more me. That humbled me, and I was encouraged by that.

I am not sure how other people in similar situations go through this. It is one of the most challenging years I have been through. Not being with my family made it more difficult. But God has been my constant strength, I must say. If there is any consolation, it is the knowledge that God is for us.