I recently learned that a friend of mine has cancer.
She reads a lot.
She is out of breath a lot.
She is trying to eat raw as part of her treatment.
She's a really great lady.
And this is awful timing.
I felt myself getting upset at God on her behalf. She has had enough hard and bad in her life--why this?, and why now?
Not because I thought I'd find an answer to this, but I started reading Cancer Ward by Alexander Solzynitzen (sp?). The book tells the story of a number of characters struggling with this disease in the Soviet Union in the 1950s. The author is a cancer survivor, and much of this may be somewhat autobiographical.
I am moved by the isolation that these patients have to endure, and the lack of power that people have over disease, or over death itself. It is fairly foreign to me as I have been well for so much of my life. I keep reading to see what sense these characters make of their disease. I am not sure how this might help me and my friend.