"Jesus, I Am Not Ready — But You Are."
Trusting God through uncertainty, diagnosis, and the Way of the Cross
The first few weeks of my cancer diagnosis leaned heavily on two words: suspicion, waiting, and confirmation. We left the hospital after my first admission with nothing but suspicion. A mass had been found on my terminal ileum. The biopsy performed via colonoscopy was inconclusive. Suspicion remained. We saw lesions on my liver that were suspicious for metastatic disease, but interventional radiology could not work me into their schedule while I was hospitalized. An outpatient appointment was scheduled with interventional radiology and I was discharged without confirmation of anything. We would have to wait.
I rested at home for a week while waiting for my liver biopsy appointment. I returned to the hospital for the procedure. Once again, I was sent home with suspicion but not confirmation. It was time to wait again.
I vividly remember the day my phone buzzed with a notification that “new biopsy results [were] available” in the online portal. I was sitting in a plush chair in the chapel at the radio studio spending some time in prayer. I was sitting beside one of my favorite images of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I opened the app and saw the words that would change my life: “positive for malignancy; consistent with a neuroendocrine tumor (NET).” We finally had confirmation. The lesion was cancerous.
I took a deep breath, looked towards the image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and silently prayed, “Jesus, now we know. I am not ready for this, but I know that You are. Let’s go.”
The next several days were another whirlwind of phone calls and appointments. I returned to my primary care provider who referred me to an oncologist. The oncologist’s office setup my first PET Scan. We waited for the results. Confirmation was given the following day at my first oncology appointment. The official diagnosis was “ Stage IV Neuroendocrine Tumor of the Terminal Ileum with Liver Metastasis.”
Ready or not…
If there is a silver lining to the cycle of suspicion, waiting, and confirmation that we lived between April 26, 2024, and May 21, 2024, it was the time we had to process. We were note surprised when my oncologist told me I had cancer. We were expecting it. In our minds, spiritual preparation for this diagnosis had begun the moment I asked Patty to text me a picture of her Michelle Duppong Prayer Card. It was time for the work to continue.
The prayers were simple.
“Jesus, I am not ready, but You are. Let’s Go.”
“Jesus, help me to trust in You.”
“Jesus, please give me the grace you gave to Michelle as she faced her diagnosis. Help me to suffer half as gracefully as she did and I know we will be alright.”
One of the first phone calls I made following the phone notification that said “malignancy confirmed…” was to a priest friend. I explained the situation and shared that I knew Jesus was inviting me to walk with Him on a very personal “Way of the Cross,” one that I have never walked before. I asked if he could recommend a spiritual director to help prepare me and accompany for this particular journey. I wanted a guide to help keep me focused on the work of the Cross, focused on hope, and ready to prepare me for a holy death should things ever go in that direction.
My spiritual director was a great blessing as I began the journey. He immediately recommended a spiritual writing titled, “Trustful Surrender to Divine Providence.” For whatever reason, God was either willing this cancer to grow in my body or He was permitting it to grow. We did not spend much time discerning which of these was the case. Instead we focused on a much more important question, “Jesus, how are You leading me to deeper intimacy with You through this cancer?”
Father then warned me of a few things I was sure to encounter along the way. Doubt, fear, anxiety, and hopelessness would all rear their ugly heads at some point along the way. God could use my cancer to draw me closer to Him. The devil would use it to try and pull me away. Prayer and the sacraments would be vital if I were to stay the course along the way.
A Plan of Action
The plan from my oncologist was fairly straightforward. First I would see a colorectal surgeon who would evaluate the best course for surgical excision of my primary tumor. Following that, I would see a hepatobiliary surgeon who would evaluate the best course to resect the metastatic disease from my liver. We also received another grace. My oncologist shared that neuroendocrine tumors grow very slowly. We needed to act with urgency over the next few weeks, but we did not need to rush to put together a plan within days. Once again we had time to process as we waited.
When Plans Fell Apart
Memorial Day weekend in 2024 started out as a gift. Beth was working the weekend shift at the hospital and my in-laws offered to take our children for the weekend so that I could have the time to relax and prepare for the next steps. A good friend took me out to dinner on Friday evening so that I could enjoy some “normalcy.” Another good friend took me out on Saturday evening because he knew the importance of being in good cheer and high spirits before a time of trial. The time spent with these friends was a great gift. The timing was impeccable.
Shortly after I returned home on Saturday evening, I started feeling significant discomfort in my abdomen. It was different than the pain that first sent me to the hospital a few weeks prior. I tried some antacids. I waited patiently for the medications to work. Time passed without any relief. I finally made the decision to wake Beth from her sleep.
My oncologist had warned us of a potential complication called a “bowel obstruction.” Essentially, the tumor could choke my small intestine from the outside, preventing things from passing through the choke point and into my ascending colon (the terminal ileum is where the small intestine and colon join together). We were once again suspicious and in need of confirmation. Ignoring the symptoms could lead to a rupture. Rupture would cause raw bile to spill into my abdomen and the resulting infection could easily lead to sepsis and death. We headed to the emergency department and received confirmation that I was partially obstructed. A partial obstruction could easily become a full obstruction within a matter of hours. It was now early Sunday morning and I was admitted for observation and a review of “the plan.”
What was supposed to have taken place over the next several weeks was now being condensed into the next few days. I was under observation for the duration of Sunday and Monday (Memorial Day). The colorectal surgeon would see me on Tuesday and, most likely, set a day for surgery. I was placed on a clear liquid diet until further notice. I would be taken into emergency surgery if at any point the partial obstruction became a full obstruction. By God’s grace, the obstruction remained partial. The surgeon saw me on Tuesday and said that he had a cancellation in his schedule for Wednesday. Surgery would be Wednesday if the operating room was still available. It was and surgery was scheduled.
Good Cheer & Gratitude
“Cheerfulness strengthens the heart and makes us persevere in a good life. Therefore the servant of God ought always to be in good spirits.” -St. Philip Neri
A priest friend’s devotion to St. Philip Neri is another grace that has paid many dividends in my life despite the fact I was not actively looking for this grace. Whenever I would join him for dinner at the Oratorian House in Formation, a passage would be read about the life of St. Philip Neri. I was more interested in the food at first, but politeness certainly meant participating in this practice of my host. As time went on, I was fascinated by St. Philip’s focus on the importance of joy and good cheer.
Another priest introduced me to an Ignatian practice called the mid-day examen. He suggested a modified version that I still practice today. The method is simple. Pause everyday at lunchtime and think of something you are grateful for from that day. Pray aloud, “Jesus, thank You for (fill in the blank).” Next think of an area in your life where you could use more grace to better live for Jesus and love Him. Pray aloud, “Jesus, please give me the grace to (fill in the blank).”
This simple practice has done more to help see the good work of God in my life than I could ever have predicted. I’ve noticed a pattern that has developed when I keep this devotion well. The more I thank God for His gifts, the more I see for which to be grateful. The more I see? The more grateful I am. Gratitude fills my heart with cheer. “Look at all God has done for me!”
The same could be said about the daily practice of asking for His grace. More often than not, I’ve been blessed to see how He answers these prayers. I ask for grace and the Lord is not shy in giving it.
This exercise of prayer became as important as daily physical exercise. You cannot use muscles you have not exercised. Numerous saints have spoken about the importance of spiritual training. A day will come when our faith will be tested. Will we be ready?
Faith Under the Weight of Doubt
On Wednesday morning, May 29, 2024, I was taken from my hospital room to the OR pre-operative area. I signed more forms. More IV’s were placed. My abdomen was shaved to prepare me for the surgery. Beth and my parents accompanied me to this point. There was still a lot of laughter and joy in these moments. This changed when they were ready to wheel me out of the room and down the hall into the operating room.
At a certain point, fear came over me. What if this was it? What if I do not survive? What if this is the last time Beth and I see each other in this life? I knew that I had been sacramentally prepared for this moment, having received Anointing of the Sick and the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Doubt crept in anyway.
I asked if we could pause for one more moment so that I could say a prayer with Beth. I told her that I loved her and how grateful and fulfilling the 15 years of our marriage had been. I thanked her for loving me. As we prayed, I thanked God for loving me. I apologized for all of my failings. I asked Him to help my unbelief and see me through the doubt that had crept into my mind.
And how could He not?
Why would a God who had already done so much that I had seen, not come through now? Why would He leave me abandoned? I had already witnessed to His goodness many times in my life leading up this. What had really changed?
Nothing.
There was a small moment of peace that came over me when we entered the operating room. I don’t remember the exact words I prayed as they placed the oxygen mask on my face and administered the sedative, but it was along the lines of “Jesus, I trust in You. I love you. I believe in Your love for me.”
The Fruit of Unknown Preparation
Earlier in the day, two friends had come to visit with us in my hospital room while we waited to be taken to the pre-operative area. One of our friends asked me a very pointed question about everything that was happening. She mentioned my love for a letter by St. John Paul II that I had found some twenty years earlier titled “Salvifici Doloris” (“On the Christian Meaning of Human Suffering”). I’ve often described this moment as “being hit with a spiritual 2x4.”
“Adam, have you ever considered that God gave you this love for ‘Salvifici Doloris’ and the theme of redemptive suffering, not so that you would share it with the world, but rather to prepare you for this very moment?”
I mentioned earlier that we thought the work of spiritual preparation had begun when I asked for a picture of the Michelle Duppong prayer card. God was already preparing me through St. Philip Neri, St. Ignatius Loyola, St. John Paul II, and those who introduced them to me. There must be countless other moments that have done the same.
I may not have been ready for the road ahead, but God was, and I was better prepared than I knew because of Him.
Reflection Questions
Where in my life am I waiting for clarity, and how am I responding to the waiting?
What fears surface when I realize I cannot control the outcome?
How is Jesus inviting me to trust Him more deeply in this season?
What am I grateful for today, even in the midst of uncertainty?
Where do I need the grace to say, “Jesus, I trust in You”?
Thank you for your witness Adam. 🙏🏻😁