As the result of a routine physical, mammogram and subsequent biopsy, I entered a foreign land on June 23, 1987.

The language of that foreign place consisted of words like chemotherapy, malignancy, bone scans, blood tests, oncologist, surgery, drug reactions and the most dreaded word of all – cancer.

After I passed my one-year anniversary since being diagnosed with breast cancer, I found myself thinking in terms of, "Hmmmmmm, last year at this time I was…" and then I would fill in the blank.

For instance, "I was in the hospital for my second chemotherapy treatment instead of enjoying this vacation" or "I was in the hospital for my third treatment instead of seeing our son’s first junior high soccer game. But this year I'm cheering on his team."

I complained about the wind blowing my hair as we drove down the road, and my husband smiled and reminded me, "At least you have hair for the wind to blow."

Yes, I remembered, not too long ago the wind was blowing my hair all right – right off my head and out the window as the result of chemotherapy.

Accepting the Treasures of Cancer

The news is full of reports about breast cancer, and now every word is vital to me. As a member of this exclusive club, reluctantly joined by cancer victims, I looked back over my experiences with this disease, and although I would not choose to go through it again, I see myself more as a victor than a victim. Because of breast cancer, I have been given some wonderful gifts that make living better than it ever was.

For instance, although I "knew" it before, now I know without a doubt that my husband's love is not dependent on my physical appearance. His gentleness and compassion were constant reminders of his love when I felt the most unlovely. Baldness, bloating and blue moods were often my constant companions, yet so was he.

I learned not to depend on my own perceptions when I was in a depressed state as a result of medication side effects. Instead I depended upon him to tell me what truth was, and I chose to live by what he told me.

During the worst of those times, deeply buried hurts from the past would surface and I would feel that it was necessary to confront the offenders. His assurance that I was in no condition to take on that added stress reminded me that those memories were most vivid because of drug reactions that were beyond my control.

Shortly after I had been diagnosed and we were still trying to understand it all, I apologized to Chuck for the tears rolling down my cheeks. It seemed that crying was all I could do. His response reminded me that there is more than one victim in the face of serious illness.

"Remember that when you cry you're crying for both of us," he said. "I wish I could cry. The pain I'm feeling might be released then."

The gift of my husband – my best friend – is sharply etched in my heart.

The Gift of Life

I've been given the gift of seeing life through appreciative eyes. The little I knew about breast cancer when I was diagnosed frightened me. As I understood it then, if I lived for five years after my diagnosis that would mean I had a good chance of survival.

Five years. That's not long enough, I told Chuck. Mark, our youngest, would only be in 10th grade in five years. Our children would need me more than they did now.

But instead of mourning that the special times we have together may be our last times, I thank God for a second opportunity to view all our times together as "special." My privilege to be their mother, their protector, their cheerleader, their listening ear, is more clearly defined as a privilege I do not take lightly.

Remembering God’s Faithfulness

My husband was the one who told me with anguished eyes that the biopsy had revealed a cancerous tumor and that more surgery would be required to determine if the cancer had spread.

When we learned that the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes and chemotherapy would be required, he was the one who reminded me that in all the hard times of the past our God had never failed to be there for us.

At that moment, I was grateful for those hard times, for they were proof that God would be there for us again.

Cancer is not a Death Sentence

In the days that followed it became clear that many found it difficult even to say the word "cancer." I began forcing myself to say it, forcing others to hear it.

Somehow, saying the word "cancer" took some of the poison out of it. It did not hold as much fear. Instead, I was able to force cancer to make me cherish and appreciate each day.

Cultivating Joy

I learned that not a whole lot is known about the cause of breast cancer, although many believe that diet, genetics and stress are contributing factors. I've also learned through medical studies that the woman who has cultivated deep joy in her life in the face of such an illness has a better survival rate.

That's one more reason I'm thankful for my relationship to Jesus Christ. He helped me to take a potentially disastrous set of circumstances and see the special joys. God placed me in a position to find out whether what I have believed and taught is real. As He daily demonstrated His great faithfulness to me, my joy in Him grew.

Avoiding Stress

My life had been filled with extreme stress for several years before the cancer was diagnosed. It's commonly believed that stress breaks down our immune systems and may activate cancer cells or make it easier for them to grow. Because of this, I've made a commitment to remove myself from stressful situations whenever possible. As the mother of four children, this takes an act of my will to decide what’s worth getting upset over.

All the clichés have taken on a new meaning: "It just isn't worth it" or "Life definitely is too short." What seems to be a crisis today usually isn't a week from now. I've heard that stress is caused not so much by our circumstances as by our responses to those circumstances. Fortunately, my faith has given me tools to handle stress. My commitment since my diagnosis is to diligently use them.

Choosing Life

Every day is a gift. I spend more time sitting on our porch observing the hummingbirds fluttering around the Rose of Sharon. I take time to smell the flowers. I'm ready to leave all my undone tasks to take off for a day at the beach, to soak in the sun and feel the warmth of the sand, the cool of the water. I enjoyed these things before, but now the sensations are sharper and deeper. Life is not urgent but serene.

For the moment I speak from a position of health. The cancer has been squelched in my body. Whatever the future holds, cancer has not made me a victim. No, I am a victor.

Sharon Betters is the wife of Dr. Charles F. Betters, pastor/teacher for MARK INC Ministries. Learn more about their journey into the foreign land of cancer through their professionally produced and packaged CD titled Learning To See When the Lights Go Out: Breast Cancer.

Other CDs in this series include the Loss of a Loved One and Terminal Illness from the Perspective of a Family Member; Dying with Dignity and Grace; Alcoholism: Help and Hope; First Responders: Wounded Healers. These hour-long interviews are honest and will help turn the listener's heart toward God in their own journey. For the price of a nice greeting card, you can share the hope of Christ with a broken-heart friend.

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