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Cancer, Pain, When Cancer Comes Home, Words of Endurance

I Thought It Was Only Us

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April 2, 2011

- Cancer, Pain, When Cancer Comes Home, Words of Endurance

by Jan Dravecky



When Dave had cancer, it seemed as if it was just happening to us—to Dave, the children, and me. It wasn’t until years later that I began to understand that cancer happened to Dave’s parents and brothers as well.



We maintained close contact with Dave’s parents throughout his cancer battle, and they made a ton of sacrifices for us. Despite our close contact, I was so overwhelmed by my pain that I overlooked the depth of pain they were experiencing. When Dave had his third surgery, we were living in Ohio and the hospital was in New York. I planned to go to New York with Dave, but the children would stay in Ohio. As they had so many times before, Dave’s parents asked how they could help. I told them that it was hard for me to leave the children but that I felt best when the children were in their care. So they cared for our children in Ohio while a friend accompanied me to New York.



I was so overwhelmed by my pain that I overlooked the depth of pain they were experiencing.



I had no idea at the time how difficult that was. Dave’s Mom had been by his side for all of his previous surgeries, and she has since said that being in Ohio while her son was in surgery hundreds of miles away was the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. I regret that I overlooked their parental love for their adult son and was not more sensitive to their pain. I am for-ever grateful for the sacrifices they made for us during that difficult time.

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Cancer, When Cancer Comes Home, Words of Endurance

Nurturing Your Marriage

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April 2, 2011

- Cancer, When Cancer Comes Home, Words of Endurance

Pray together consistently.


Prayer is a great source of strength and unity for any couple, and it can be particularly helpful when you face a crisis. Statistics show that couples who pray regularly together have fewer marital conflicts. So practice bring-ing God into your situation. Set aside a regular time to pray with one another over each day’s needs and express the concerns that weigh on each of your hearts.



Recognize that both of you have needs


—needs that you may never have had before. Be consistent and persistent in finding out your spouse’s needs, even the ones you aren’t able to meet personally. When you care enough to ask and then pray for the needs you aren’t able to meet, you send a powerful message of love and concern.



Work at two-way communication.


Conversations between spouses often focus on the daily cancer battle. Make an effort to focus conversation on the well spouse too. And when you talk, share about more than just the events that are happening around you. Focus on the personal side of the challenges you each face. Share how you are feeling about and dealing with those challenges on the emotional and spiritual levels.



Encourage refreshment.


Both the patient and the well spouse need times of rest and enjoyment. So give one another permission and your blessing to do something enjoyable. An overnight stay or a special outing with one of the children might be just what’s needed to provide a renewed perspective.



Accept help.


If someone offers to help with daily tasks or household chores, jump at the opportunity to lighten the load. Make sure children in the family are carrying their share of household responsibilities as well. They sometimes slack off on home responsibilities when their parents are preoccupied, and (despite their protests) their sense of security and self-esteem will be enhanced when they help out.



Enlist help.


Yourchurch, neighbors, relatives, friends, hospice and cancer support groups are available to help shoulder the burden. Use their services. Be open to seeking wise counsel. A third party will often help you see things more clearly. You don’t have to “go it alone.”

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Anger, Cancer, Depression, When Cancer Comes Home, Words of Endurance

All in the Family

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March 27, 2011

- Anger, Cancer, Depression, When Cancer Comes Home, Words of Endurance

And if one member suffers,
all the members suffer with it…
The apostle Paul referring to the family of Christ in 1 Corinthians 12:26





Many people know that I had cancer, but many people don’t know that although I was a patient, I wasn’t the only one who suffered. My whole family battled cancer. Not one of us escaped its grasp.



When cancer comes home, every member of the family is launched on a new and challenging journey. Nobody knows quite what to do. Jan and I didn’t know what to do. We bumbled our way through it. We handled some things remarkably well, but in other ways we fell flat on our faces.



From the very beginning, we were totally honest with our children. That was good. It was also scary, especially when amputation became necessary. You see, our six-year-old son Jonathan was afraid of people who had physical handicaps. If he saw a child who was deformed, he panicked. He ran away from children in wheelchairs. Although we did our best to prepare him for the amputation of my arm by telling him the truth, answering his questions, and addressing his fears, we didn’t know how he would respond.



When I came home following the amputation, Jonathan stared at me for a long time. Then he ran outside and gathered up his friends. They called me into the garage and Jonathan said, “Dad, take off your shirt. Show ’em where they cut your arm off.” So I did. They all looked at the fresh wound and said, “Oh, gross!” then they ran outside to play. That was how Jonathan broke the ice and began accepting what had happened to me. Today he no longer fears physical handicaps. Instead, a deep compassion for those who suffer has been built into his character.



I wish I could say that Jan and I handed cancer as a couple as well as we did with our children, but we didn’t. Just as intense heat brings the impurities in gold ore to the surface, the pressure of cancer brings a couple’s flaws and impurities into the open. Jan describes that time best: “For a time, Dave was angry. Although I knew his heart and didn’t lack love for him, I didn’t like seeing that ugly side of him. And I didn’t handle my role as caretaker well. I ended up depressed, burned out, and guilt-ridden. At the time my husband really needed me, I fell apart. My weakness was frustrating to both of us.” Despite our unfailing commitment to one another, we fell apart to the point that my parents needed to come into our home and care for us for six weeks because Jan and I had become incapable of doing it ourselves.



We don’t know exactly what you face on your cancer journey because every individual and family responds to the demands of cancer in their own way. But we do know that cancer is difficult for everyone in the family and that each member’s response has a dramatic impact on the other members. Some people are able to pull together and work through the process. They don’t experience the same things Jan and I experienced. Other families are just like us and have to deal with difficult, often ugly, issues. And in some families, the crisis is so great that the marriage doesn’t survive.



We certainly don’t have all the answers. We don’t offer a formula of dos and don’ts when cancer comes home. But we are willing to share a glimpse of our cancer experience and the experiences of others in the hope that it will encourage you and help you press on and endure the journey as a family. You are not alone in dealing with these issues. Many other families, through loving acceptance of one another and open, honest communication, are learning how to deal with cancer when it comes home.

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God Understands

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February 13, 2011

- Cancer, Hope, Loss, Who Am I Now, Words of Endurance

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows.
Isaiah 53:3-4



In our most desperate moments, when our losses feel overwhelming and inconsolable, there is nothing more precious than being with someone with who we can identify. I can still envision the close companionship my aunt and brother-in-law shared at a family gathering. They had met only once, years before, so I didn’t expect them to become such fast friends. But they were the only people in that room who were battling cancer, and they shared a bond that the rest of us could only imagine. They walked the same valley, understood each other’s pain. No one else could hold a candle to the encouragement they gave and received from one another.

We, too, have Someone who has walked the same valley we have. God is intimately acquainted with the landscape of our suffering. He needs no explanation of our hurt, desperation, or fear. He has felt the dust of earth’s deep valleys on his feet. He has felt in His heart the pain of great loss and suffering.



  • He understands the loss of dignity. He left Heaven’s glory for a small-town stable.

  • He understands the loss of position. He left Heaven’s throne to become one of His own creation.

  • He understands teh loss of credibility. His own family didn’t believe His claims.

  • He understands the loss of honor and respect. The religious leaders who claimed to follow God despised Him and even plotted to destroy Him.

  • He understands the loss of vitality and strength. Weakened by the most brutal torture, someone else had to carry His cross to Golgotha.

  • He understands the loss of relationships. In Him most desperate hour, all of His friends on earth abandoned Him.



God completely understands the losses of our suffering. He understands them perfectly not only because He is all knowing but because He has experienced them personally. No one can ever understand us better.

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Articles, Cancer

A Burden Shared is a Burden Diminished

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January 19, 2011

- Articles, Cancer

by Jan and Dave Dravecky



Bear one another’s burdens, and thus fulfill the law of Christ.
GALATIANS 6:2



Cancer is a life-changing experience. It changes how we view ourselves and our future. It changes our daily routine—perhaps for a few months, perhaps for as long as we live. It may change the kind of work we do or where and how we live. And, as is true for all long-term trials, cancer changes our relationships.



Of all the discomfort, turmoil, and uncertainty that accompany cancer, the struggle to deal with changing relationships often brings us the deepest pain. All too often it seems that just when we need people the most—just when our suffering becomes more than we can bear—people scatter. This is the burden we want to address through this and the next issue of The Encourager.



Through our experiences and the suffering we have witnessed in the lives of others, we have learned that we NEED one another. God never intended for us to go it alone. At the very beginning of the human race, God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone,” so He made Eve. Thousands of years have passed, but our need for one another hasn’t changed. We still need family members and friends to help us bear life’s burdens. Yet bearing one another’s burdens isn’t easy to do. In the face of cancer, amputation, or the death of a loved one, it can be a real struggle for both the person who is suffering and the friend or family member who comes alongside.



By its nature, suffering brings uncertainty, confusion, and isolation. It is difficult to talk about these things, so many people who suffer feel that they need to bear their burden alone. After all, if they don’t understand what is happening, how can anyone else understand’? Others who suffer are afraid to ask for help or don’t want to be a burden to others, so they push away anyone who comes close to them.



Those who would come alongside and help bear the burden may find themselves facing situations and emotions they have never experienced before. They may have no idea how to relate to a friend who has lost a child. They may not know what to say to someone who has lost a limb or is confined to a wheelchair. They may not have the spiritual or emotional stamina to stay the course and stick with a friend who suffers for many months or even years. They may, perhaps for the first time, face their own mortality as they watch a friend fight to live. They may feel they have failed if their friend doesn’t respond positively to their efforts.



All of these things make it challenging to share and bear our burdens. Despite our best efforts, we will all disappoint one another in our relationships. We won’t always be there in the way a friend or loved one needs us; we won’t always accept the gift of true friendship, even when we know we need it. But we can forgive one another and keep trying. We can offer encouragement and step in to lighten the load for one another. May God give us the grace to come alongside one another and bear our burdens together.



“Friendship is one of the sweetest joys of life. Many might have failed beneath the bitterness of their trial had they not found a friend.”
CHARLES HADDON SPURGEON

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Cancer, Grief, Pain, Walking the Path of Encouragement, Words of Endurance

Walking the Path of Encouragement

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January 7, 2011

- Cancer, Grief, Pain, Walking the Path of Encouragement, Words of Endurance

Let us not love with words or tongue
but with actions and in truth.
1 JOHN 3:18 (NIV)



We know that comforting those who hurt is difficult and unfamiliar territory. It isn’t easy to step in and help carry the load for a hurting friend. The pitfalls and unexpected turns that line the path of encouragement are unsettling—even frightening. We don’t know what to do or when. We’re afraid of doing or saying the “wrong” thing. We don’t know where to turn for help. This uncertainty causes many would-be encouragers to feel inadequate and to turn back.



Although Jan and I and the Outreach of Hope staff encourage others on a daily basis, we haven’t always known how to do this. There was a time before cancer, before depression, when Jan and I didn’t have a clue. And there are times now when we still don’t know what to do. One time I knew I needed to call a woman whose cancer was terminal, and, even though I have had cancer, I didn’t know what to say to her. My cancer wasn’t terminal and I kept thinking, What do I say to someone who is dying? I was so troubled by my inadequacy that I put off calling her for weeks. When I finally mustered the courage to call her, she had died. In my eyes, I had blown it.



Many others who have tried to share the burdens of those who suffer know how painfully inadequate we are to fully meet their needs. Several years ago our ministry coordinator, Kim Jones, who is experienced in health-care and ministry, was called upon to walk with her friend through a year-long battle with terminal cancer. “My best friend learned how real and loving God could be in the midst of her pain,” Kim explains, “and I learned how inadequate and ill-prepared I was to walk with her through it. School had taught me to use my head, everyday life taught me to use my hands, but nothing had taught my heart how to bear this burden.” Yet God was faithful, and Kim discovered the truth of the saying, “God’s hand will never lead you where His grace cannot keep you.”



Despite our inadequacy, God intends for us to walk with those who suffer and to share His love by bearing one another’s burdens. This is something we each must learn how to do. Our desire is to take those who would be encouragers a little further down the pathway of encouragement. We want to point you in a direction that will help you bear some of the pain that weighs heavily on your friend or loved one. We want to help you discover the actions of love that will encourage and comfort someone who is suffering.



By Dave Dravecky

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Cancer, Loss, Who Am I Now, Words of Endurance

Assessing the Damage After the Storm

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January 7, 2011

- Cancer, Loss, Who Am I Now, Words of Endurance

My days have passed, my plans are shattered, and so are the desires of my heart.
Job 17:11



At what she calls “the naive age of 20,” Sally quit school to marry her college sweetheart, Wayne DeRue. Wayne was a natural leader who rose through the ranks to become a U.S. Air Force Colonel. As is true for many military wives, Sally’s life revolved around that of her husband. During his 29-year military career, the family moved 17 times, including a stint overseas. Between the frequent moves, the demands of raising a family, and the expectations of her as an officer’s wife, Sally never had the time or opportunity to develop an identity of her own.



Although Sally accepted her role as “Colonel DeReu’s wife” with little complaint, she always looked forward to their life after the military. She was eager to live in the same house for more than two years. She hoped to finish college or pursue some of her own dreams. She anticipated a change, but she had no idea of the storm that headed her way with gale force intensity.



A mere two weeks before his retirement ceremony, Wayne was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of abdominal cancer. Sally remembers the next ten months as a complete blur. Overnight, she changed from being “Colonel DeReu’s wife” to being “Wayne’s caregiver” Instead of enjoying their much-anticipated retirement, Wayne and Sally embarked on a four-year battle. “We went from diagnosis to surgery to treatment to survival.” During that time, Sally cared for Wayne, comforted him, and this past summer, she buried her husband of 33 years.



Sally views the past four years as “living in survival mode.” The daily struggle of living with cancer – the doctor’s appointments, insurance claims, pharmacy runs, physical therapy, keeping track of medications and dosages, updating friends and family on new developments, – in addition to the daily chores of running a home and family leaves precious little time to process what is happening. Because her loss and grief is so fresh, Sally admits that she hasn’t gotten to the point of facing all the losses. When you’re going through it, “You don’t have time to think about what you’ve lost, to think about the future, to think about the loss of your dreams.” That comes later.



The process of redefining who she is now that she’s not an officer’s wife or a caregiver is still ahead for Sally. She knows it won’t be easy. Being an officer’s wife and mother makes it difficult to establish strong personal goals. Like many others who live through a period of adversity and loss, Sally is just beginning to become acquainted with personal issues that have been long forgotten or placed on the back burner.



Yet Sally is determined to move forward. “I don’t know who I am now or where I’m going,” she admits, “but I’m just going to get through today, and tomorrow, and then God will show me the way.” Admitting her loss, she believes, is the first step in allowing God to fashion a new identity for her.



What Am I Worth?
Our worth stems not from what we have or what we do or what we control or whom we know, but from what God has done for us and in us. This was great news to me because I always felt that my worth stemmed from my performance – if I performed well, I was worth a lot; if I messed up, I wasn’t worth much. But when I finally started to discover that my worth wasn’t tied even a little to my abilities or my performance, but rather depended entirely and forever on what God had already done in me and for me, my world suddenly opened up. I was free!

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"The journey of our suffering was not hopeless. Through it we discovered the power of endurance - not in our own ability, but in the comfort, encouragement, and hope that God provides"

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