I listened to a recently released song by Natalie Grant, and it gripped me to my very soul. I was statue-still as I closed my eyes and hung on every word, every phrase, every verse. Not only are the lyrics apropos for our recent pandemic challenges, it is as if it was written for Dave and my challenges almost a year ago. The song, “My Weapon (Sacred Version)” is more than timely, because there is a story that I’ve been waiting to write about. To think that the story that I’m about to tell happened almost a year ago is incredible. In the past year, Dave and I have gone from learning that the cancer would take his life to the miracle of remission. Then he experienced yet another life-saving bone marrow transplant, only to have the weight-depleting mouth sores plague him. After all of that healing, we now side-step and dance around COVID 19, staying home and staying safe. Well, I knew there would be a time to share our God moment with you, and the time is now.

June 3, 2019 began as if the day before had never ended. Dave was rushed to the hospital and was immediately admitted. The days and nights blurred into each other, as Dave’s elevated fever and blood counts were beginning to tell a grim story. We knew that his cancer had returned. Rather than guess how bad this was becoming, another bone marrow biopsy would give us succinct results.

Alex, our nurse practitioner, was slated to do the procedure, which would be her first bone marrow biopsy with Dave. I was a little apprehensive. Alex is about 6’1″ and was a college volleyball player. We loved her competitive nature the moment we met her, but to be perfectly honest, she looks like she should still be in college. It was hard to imagine she had enough experience to even do a biopsy. She raised the hospital bed to its full height, which put Dave eye to eye with me. He rolled to his side as instructed and waited for the pain of the first numbing needle. We clasped hands and he began to squeeze. She created a circle of numbness with the knitting-sized needle, calmly talking to Dave and telling him every move she would make before each insertion. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

“Squeeze my hand honey; give me the pain,” I said as I watched the tear hit the pillow. He opened his eyes and calmly said, “I just saw God.” In a sudden panic, I squeezed his hands and with tears in my eyes, I said, “Don’t you leave me now.” Reverently, Dave shook his head and said, “No, He’s watching over us.” And then he closed his eyes again.

“Please take his pain, please take his pain,” I prayed over and over in my head. I also asked God to guide Alex’s hands, bless this biopsy and continue to watch over us. I carefully watched Dave’s face to see signs of pain and the agony when the biopsy drill was going into his bone. His grip lessened and his face softened…and I prayed. I prayed. I prayed the same words over and over again. “Please take his pain, let him feel no pain.”

Alex continued to recite her every move, but I was lost in prayer and holding onto Dave for dear life. I’m sure I have never prayed with such desperation as I did that day. And when Alex finished and put the compact dressing on, Dave rolled to his back to keep pressure on the wound and minimize bleeding. He looked into my eyes and told me of his vision of God. Dave said He was overlooking above us. “A brilliant, intense light surrounded Him – it was a blinding white but distinct vision – which I can’t even explain. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. It was kind of calm and peaceful,” Dave said.

But what was most amazing was Dave did not feel the pain that accompanies a bone marrow biopsy. It was a dull pressure, but not the agony he has experienced so many times. And in the months that followed and in his critical condition, he did not feel pain. When he should have been withering in pain from the widespread cancer, he felt no pain because the presence of God was his weapon.

Place this song in your heart and apply it to our challenges today. I know that, “My Weapon, (Sacred Version)” will help us to stand firm in the middle of this storm. We can’t always see the invisible enemy, but with prayer as a priority and not a last resort…

...Let every storm be tamed
And all that come against us
Be bound in Jesus’ name.

My Weapon by Natalie Grant