You've Got the Look

"You've got the look," she said, as she opened the door for me. For those of you old enough to remember old TV ads, she wasn't taliking about "the look you want to know better." She was talking about the chemotherapy look.

The sunken eyes. Pale face. Slouched demeanor. The kinds of things that make a 45-year-old look like he's 70. [Please, I mean no offense to 70-year-old men. Many I know are in much better shape than I.]

When you've got the look, people stare. Some know. Many wonder. Some have to look away.

There is a certain stigma attached to any sick role. Since cancer is so prevalent, the stigma evokes a variety of responses.

I do wonder what people think sometimes. Does my cancer highlight their own immortality? Does my decaying body cause them to see the reality of how sin has affected all of creation? Do they think that I am being punished in some way? Can they see the real me?

I want people to look long enough to see beyond the sunken eyes and pale complexion, to see the life of Christ within. A life that will never die. A life that is growing in love and peace. Yes, the outward man is wasting away, but the inner man is glorifying in Jesus Christ and the life He gives, both for today and for eternity.

Today, this body can't do much. In a few months, Lord willing, I hope to be walking. But in heaven, I'll be dancing. I'll still be praising the King of kings and Lord of lords. I'll be worshiping the Creator of the Universe, the One who has seen me through all these trials so that I can be with Him forever.