For over twenty years I’ve had the privilege of serving on the board of an international leadership development organization called Scholar Leaders International. (Note: earlier this group was called CISF). The mission of ScholarLeaders is to identify and then invest in the best and brightest young and proven Christian leaders from Africa, Asia, Latin America and the former Soviet Bloc countries. Our goal is to help Level Four leaders – i.e., those who will write the important books, lead denominations and NGOs and pastor pastors.
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One of the joys of this group has been the board itself, which is made up of thoughtful and delightful people. And one of the odd things about this board is that almost no one leaves. Though it’s customary to rotate off a board after three or six years, this board has stayed essentially the same over the last twenty. And everyone kept marching along until eight months ago when, in the course of just a few weeks, three of us went down. Steve Hayner – the past President of InterVarsity and the current President of Columbia Theological Seminary – was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer; Doug McConnell – the past president of Pioneers International Mission Agency and the current Provost of Fuller Theological Seminary – had a pulmonary embolism; and I suffered a vestibular dissection and subsequent stroke.
Doug and I have made pretty complete recoveries, but Steve – who’s influence on my life over the last thirty years is hard to overstate – has not.
Here is an entry from his blog a few days ago. He is facing his death with the same grace and joy that he has lived his life.
It’s been almost 8 months since I was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer. But, apart from the days when I am recovering from the chemo treatments, I am still doing pretty well. I don’t feel normal, but I am generally energetic. I have a reasonable appetite and my weight is low but remaining constant. I have various side effects from the chemo and cancer such as hair loss (I’ve got fuzz on my head again now), numbness in my feet and hands, digestive issues, and loss of muscle tone. This week I’ve had what is referred to as ‘breakout pain’ several times for which I have had to take extra medication. If I wait too long it’s hard to get it back under control. But most days I am up and able to work on projects and to be with people. My doctors remain encouraged about my general health.
Those of you who have followed CaringBridge know that the scans that I had back in September were quite encouraging. The central tumor had decreased a bit in size and the lesions in my liver had also been reduced. At that time the cancer markers in my blood had dropped considerably from what they had been in June. But in the case of the cancer markers, they are again elevated and have continued an upward trend for the past two months. Lately, I haven’t felt as well and have slowed down. I just had another scan on Monday to see more clearly what is going on and will get a full report from the medical team next week..
So the signals about my health are mixed. Some days we are encouraged and other days not so much.
Life can be confusing like this. We go through times that are encouraging and times that are discouraging. Often our feelings about what we are feeling are themselves confusing. Honestly, it’s difficult to maintain a consistent perspective unless you are a person with an unusually stable personality.
When our children were teenagers, and going through a stage where it seemed like every little thing took on immense proportions, I used to say to them, “So what do you think this is like in light of eternity?” In other words, is this really worth the fuss? But I have realized that it’s not just kids who have a tough time with perspective. It’s all of us. We blow so many things out of proportion. Little things become huge issues. And even big things become issues that seem much bigger than they probably are. Whether it is a stressful circumstance, a difficult relationship, a confusing problem, or a shameful failure, there is so much in our lives that feels like it will overwhelm us.
But the fact of the matter is that “in light of eternity” most of what we face takes on a different proportion. Circumstances pass. Relationships can be healed. Even horrid failures are cut down to size by time and by God’s grace at work in our lives.
Living with a life-threatening, terminal disease has a way of providing a different perspective. At least it can. Eternity is a little closer — a little more tangible. But I still feel confused from day to day about my situation. Am I really dying? How much longer can I expect to live? How do I stay encouraged when the evidence about my condition is mixed? What will the next stage of my disease be like? How do I live with consistency from day to day when my circumstances continue to vary?
What seems to be important now, as it has been throughout my illness, is that I keep my eyes on those things which remind me of eternity. There are loving relationships, for example, which call me back. And there is the centrality of joy, gratitude and service to be considered every day. All of these qualities keep my heart facing eternity rather than wallowing in inward confusion. It is the eternal focus that keeps me steady. Love embraces me. Joy uplifts me. Gratitude settles me. Service focuses me away from myself and back on the lives of others. When I lean into love, joy, gratitude and service, I worry less, because eternity surrounds me and God’s grace upholds me.
What does the inconsistency in my health mean in light of an eternity which is already assured? Ultimately day to day inconsistency means little when I live with my hand firmly held by the One who is the same yesterday, today and forever.