Weeks after I turned in my book, Breaking Anxiety’s Grip, my husband and I were driving to an appointment when my cell phone rang. On the other end was my doctor, who had run some tests only days before. Upon answering, I heard the words no one expects nor wants to hear: “I hate to have to tell you this Dr. Bengtson, but you have cancer.”

I have no idea what she said next. I was already reacting. What? That can’t be—I’m healthy, I exercise daily, I eat well (as long as you consider an occasional piece of chocolate at least good for the soul, if not good for the body). They must have the wrong patient.

“Dr. Bengtson, are you there?”

“What? I mean yes. Sorry, I was just processing what you said.”

“I understand. We need to schedule you for surgery right away. Would you like to schedule that now?”

I’m sure what proceeded to pour from my lips sounded more like a stutter or stammer than intelligible words. “Um, no. I, um, will have to get back to you on that. We’re just about to step into an appointment for my husband. I’ll have to look at my calendar and get back to you.”

I didn’t hear her final words. I sat staring straight ahead out the windshield as the same phrase played repeatedly in my mind, just like when the needle gets stuck on an old vinyl record and keeps playing the same several notes. “I’ve got cancer. I’ve got c-a-n-c-e-r. Oh my word . . . how can this be? I’ve got cancer.”

Moments later, we sat waiting at his appointment. As the shock began to wear off, fear threatened to assault. I knew in that moment that I had a choice to make: either I could acquiesce to the enemy’s temptation for me to fear, for my future and for my family, or I could trust that this diagnosis hadn’t taken God by surprise and he would care for me regardless of what my future held.

I’ll never forget the shock and horror I felt when weeks later, after the dreaded surgery, I stared at my mirrored reflection in disgust when the surgical bandages were removed and saw my scarred flesh. All I could see was the wound that remained as a testament of the cancer that had invaded my body. The scarlet zigzag was raised, tender, and unsightly. Nothing would hide cancer’s indelible mark.

The pain that ensued was a hurtful, nagging reminder of the part of my history I would have preferred to forget. Yet even as the pain subsided, the scar served as a virtual billboard that flashed, “Here . . . it was here. And because of it, you are forever changed.”

I hated that scar and all it represented. Even as others prayed for my complete healing, the enemy was quick to whisper, If God really loved you, this never would have happened. Now you are broken and flawed. Your imperfection is forever on display.

Over the following days, weeks, months, and year, I wrestled with God. I knew God hadn’t inflicted this disease on me. He says in his Word that it is his desire that we prosper and be in health, even as our soul prospers (see 3 John 1:2). I clung to the promise that what the enemy intended for evil in my life, God would use for good (see Gen. 50:20). But as I stared at my scar in the mirror, I wondered out loud, “How could something so ugly ever become something good?”

We rarely recognize the purpose of pain and the resulting scars at the time. In the waiting, in the praying, in the trusting, God is working his will and his way to help us become a brighter reflection of him. His promises give us countless reasons to hope. Throughout my husband’s and my health-related battles, I clung to Psalm 27:13: “I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.”

When facing pain and adversity, it helps to speak God’s promises instead of reciting the problem. Not only does God own the cattle on a thousand hills, but he also owns all the hills! He is a good God, his plans for us are good, and he longs to be our Provider. But growth is a process, one that we can’t rush, especially when we want God’s outcome.

*The above is an excerpt from Sacred Scars: Resting in God’s Promise That Your Past is Not Wasted by Dr. Michelle Bengtson ©2024 Revell Publishers, used with permission.

Sacred Scars: Resting in God’s Promise that Your Pain is Not Wasted

Now Available!

We all endure trials, pain, and hardship in this life. Too often we believe these experiences disqualify us from being useful to God. But the truth is, your past pain and brokenness serve as preparation for what God wants to do in and through you – if you will surrender to and trust him.

Just as Jesus’s scars didn’t disappear after his resurrection, our emotional or physical scars tell our story and lend credence to our testimony of God’s love and power. If you are ready to turn your past pain into present comfort and future hope, let Dr. Bengtson be your compassionate guide.

Find out more and order here: Sacred Scars