Finding/Losing Faith After Cancer

I usually don't discuss religion with too many people. It's always a sore subject; regardless of your religion, or lack there of. But I recently had a conversation with a pastor that brought all these bad memories back to me.


I am one of those people who lost their faith after cancer.


No, it wasn't being angry with God for giving me cancer. It wasn't resentment. It was because of one little decision of a pastor that I had grown up with and grown to love.


My condition had been so grave when I was finally diagnosed, I was hospitalized for the next three weeks. (Driven from doctor's office, straight to hospital.) I asked my sister to call my pastor to come and see me. I was in desperate need of spiritual guidance and clinging to whatever hope I could find. I received a call from this paster the next day, at the hospital. As it turned out, she had changed churches. And I was not a member of her new church. She couldn't come to see me. She insisted I call the new pastor at my church, whom I didn't know. And she told me "You'll be just fine."


It was a couple of days later that I was officially diagnosed with non-hodgkins lymphoma. I was refusing treatment, until my father put it all on the table for me. I would, without a doubt, be dead by my 24th birthday if I didn't do chemo. (My birthday was only a month away.) Obviously, I'm alive now. I caved and went through chemo. Later got married, and now have a daughter. So the "my" pastor (Which she isn't anymore, as she isn't working for my church anymore.) was right. So, why did this brief conversation I had with her nearly eight years ago effect me so much?


My conversation with a new pastor at a church in another state helped me realize why. It was a couple of reasons. One, politics. Religion doesn't belong in politics. And politics doesn't belong in religion. Yet, for several millenia, they always go hand in hand. Which, I feel, defeats the true purpose of both. But that's a conversation better left to a sociology term paper.


      Second, my pastor let me down. Not only was she the ONLY female pastor I had ever met. She was a young pastor. Sweet and charismatic, she had a knack with understanding the teenager. I do credit her for helping keep me out of trouble. But it was this little thing she announced to all of us the first day of confirmation class. She gave us all her phone number, and told us that if we were EVER in trouble, to call her. She didn't care what the trouble was. She would come and get us, no questions asked. We all got a freebie. I never used my freebie throughout my teen years. And when I wanted to claim my freebie at the age of 23... she didn't come.




I was quite surprised that this conversation with this new pastor got to me so much. I actually cried. All these aweful memories and feelings I'd held back for so long just came to surface. Maybe now, I'll be able to make peace with all this. Who knows. But at least I now know where all my resentment comes from.