“And we ask all of these things in Jesus’ name, amen,” said my pastor as he finished praying for the surgery I was about to have. Each person who had gathered by my hospital bed gave me a hug and a reassuring smile as I was wheeled away.
It was time. I had been battling cancer with chemotherapy for five months now and was about to have the surgery to replace the bone in my leg where the cancer was. So much of my treatment depended on this surgery.
Only one family member was allowed to make the walk to the surgery room with me, so my dad took my hand and reminded me of the verses we’d been reciting from Psalm 121 as we were led down the maze of halls. We finally came to a set of massive metal doors whose only purpose seemed to be to intimidate the people who walked through them. At that point, I was asked to say goodbye to my dad— no other person besides the patient and the hospital staff were allowed to proceed further. He kissed my forehead and comfortingly squeezed the stuffed dog I was clinging to. Then, they rolled me on…
Read the rest here: http://bit.ly/cf0n9q
This article was published in YouthWalk magazine.