By Helena Leyenaar
In our family, Christmas was a time of celebration. According to Dutch tradition, during the first week of December we carefully put our shoes in front of the kerosene stove every night. Father Christmas and his assistant, Black Pete, would come by to visit with chocolates for our shoes. Then, on the seventh day, he left small presents. Unless we’d been naughty that year—then he supposedly left a lump of coal. (Somehow we must always have been nice, because none of us ever received that lump of coal.)
December 25 was the celebration of Jesus’ birth—the baby in the manger. We read and reread the Christmas story, attended church and had a celebration at Sunday school where we received a book, a bag of hard candy and an orange.
I didn’t have it all together
The past few years Christmas hasn’t always been easy. A few years ago I was laid off during a major downsizing in the oil industry. I had worked for the company for over ten years. It was supposed to be for life! I had planned to eventually retire there and have a nice pension. I was angry. Hadn’t I been asking women to attend the Christian Business Women’s lunch in Vancouver? Hadn’t I been giving a portion of my income to God? One friend said to me it was the first time she felt like I didn’t have it all together—that she could pray for me.
Just after I was laid off, my dad became very ill and was hospitalized. He had torn the lining of his lung when something got caught in his throat. He had struggled with his health all his life after his lungs were badly damaged during the war when a bomb exploded while he was shovelling snow.
I stayed with my parents for three months to help with his illness and then went on a six-week trip to South Africa to visit friends and family. When I arrived back in Canada, my folks welcomed me home and then went back to Vancouver Island.
Massive Brain Aneurysm
Two days later I received a phone message from my dad that my mother was in the hospital. She had suffered a massive brain aneurysm the night before. I hadn’t even unpacked my suitcase. Doctors didn’t expect her to make it through the night. But after they transferred her to Victoria General Hospital and major surgery she was on the road to recovery. She was paralyzed on the left side and for the next six months my dad and I lived in a motel close to her rehabilitation hospital.
The settlement from the oil company allowed me to be there for both of my parents. I realized that God knew I would need the money and the time off long before I did.
Finally at the beginning of October we took my mom home to Surrey. I had a rancher and we were able to get her in and out of the house easily. But it still took both my Dad and I to care for her.
No-one said it would be easy
Less than a month later Dad suddenly died. He was only 72. We didn’t know that cancer had spread through his whole body until the day before he died. I was then left on my own to care for my mother who was only 69 years old.
When I accepted that Jesus died for me, He didn’t promise that life would be easy. But he always said he would be there for me.
Over the next two years we struggled to make ends meet. I wasn’t able to work and we lived on Mom’s pension, but we always seemed to have enough and thanked God every day that we had a home and food and each other.
Best Christmas Gift
In the last years of her life, my mom struggled with invasive melanoma and finally bladder cancer. Just before Christmas six and a half years after she came to live with me, she went into the hospital to have her bladder removed and have a bag attached. I told her she didn’t have to have the surgery but she wasn’t afraid. She said that regardless of whether the surgery was successful or not, she knew her home would be heaven and she would be with Jesus. A few days later she developed pneumonia and lapsed into a coma. Christmas Day she suddenly woke up and I was able to say goodbye and let her go home to the Lord. Her best Christmas present.
I was working at a mission organization in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, managing two thrift stores and a four-floor residence, when I learned that I had breast cancer. A routine mammogram showed something was wrong and a short time later I found out that over 30 percent of my right breast was cancerous.
My coworkers prayed for me constantly and on the day of my surgery wore pink ribbons and had a group picture taken to encourage me that, whatever the outcome, God would be there for me. My church family was praying for the surgeon’s hands to be guided by the Lord.
Even my surgeon said that when I was on the operating table he knew there was something different about me—my body was totally at peace. I explained to him that God was with me and in me and that I trusted him with my life. Within two days I was home from the hospital and three weeks later I was back at work.
A Time to Celebrate
Christmas was a special time that year–I had recovered from cancer and my nephew, who also had been sick, was home from the hospital and getting better. What a celebration of thanksgiving and answered prayer.
The following spring the mission went through a radical change and five of us were laid off. At first I was very upset because I would lose my medical and long-term disability benefits should the cancer return. After a lot of crying I was comforted by the verse in 2 Corinthians 12:9 that says: “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” I had worked long enough to qualify for Employment Insurance and still had basic BC medical coverage. I was able to fully recover from my surgery and underwent a follow-up surgery to have breast reconstruction.
I had just finished my Employment Insurance when I saw an ad for Manager of a thrift store in Langley. I applied, was interviewed and a week later I started. How exciting!
Shocking News
Then it was time for my annual mammogram again. I couldn’t believe it. I had cancer again—but in the left breast and a different, very aggressive cancer. I was stunned. In shock. How could this be happening to me again? For two weeks I couldn’t think or talk about it. I knew it was really serious—I could die this time. Would I be able to handle the cancer and treatments in a way that would glorify God? Or would I end up turning my back on him in anger and walking away? I was not happy.
I had been to a women’s seminar and we received folders and each folder had a different Bible verse on it. Mine said:
The Lord your God is with you,
He is mighty to save
He will take great delight in you
He will quiet you with His love
He will rejoice over you with singing–Zephaniah 3:17
A few weeks later I received an encouragement card with the same verse on it and then a bookmark with this same verse from a different person. Do you think God was trying to tell me something? It was reassuring to know I was not walking this path alone and the verse became an anchor for the months to follow.
I had surgery and again I was home in two days, but then I got the call that the biopsy showed there was still cancer that had not been removed and it was almost to my underarm. Two weeks later I was in again and went home the same day.
Surviving Chemo
Last Christmas we were thankful that I was still around, but I was very weak—I could barely catch my breath or walk any distance and was facing chemotherapy. Three days after the first treatment I wanted to die. I was so sick I couldn’t stop throwing up. I couldn’t lie down or stand up. The prospect of going to heaven was very inviting—no more pain or tears and I would be whole.
I could have hidden in my house and had a pity party for one, but I knew I needed to get out there and be a witness of what I believed. God has used my illness to open doors to help others.
The last chemotherapy session was the most difficult. I didn’t want to be sick again. I even asked my doctor if I could skip. But in the end I was an adult and went and did it. I think I was sicker before going in than after the actual treatment because I wanted so badly not to go.
It reminded me of Jesus just before he died. He sweated blood because he knew what was to come and he was innocent—but he still went to the cross for me.
It has been four months since my last chemo appointment. How do I choose to live the rest of my life when I have a 25 to 30 percent chance of getting cancer again in another area in my body? I don’t want to avoid life. God has been with me through it all. I have wonderful curly hair again and I am grateful to be alive.
May the good lord be with you in your journey!