More from Ginette Armoogan

Unfortunately, nobody is immune to the storms and challenges of life. As I write this, it has been five months since I answered the phone and heard those dreaded words from my surgeon, “We found a tumor . . . and it was cancer.” This turn of events was both devastating and unexpected. But life can be like that, right?

Throughout this health crisis, there were more times than I’d care to admit when I struggled with dark thoughts and had little hope for the future. Although my optimistic oncologist and surgeon seemed hopeful for the outcome, I wasn’t as confident—pretty ironic for someone who had published a book about having “hope unhindered.”

I found myself confronted with the reality of having to re-experience the faith-walk lessons I had learned and written about earlier. Feeling a lack of peace and hope in my present circumstances was not what I thought or wanted to be wrestling with again.

In my meditation submission to The Upper Room, I spoke about the heaviness of a personal struggle, and looking at my peace lily plant—I was sitting by peace but not in peace. This devotional was one of the first things I read for encouragement at the beginning of my treatment journey. I knew the truths that the Lord had reminded me of back then were still applicable now. The God who had given me peace and hope in the past is the same God who offers it to me (and all of us) today. Our God is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

I am incredibly grateful to report that my treatment was successful. Though the cancer is gone, my peace lily plant remains. The leaves continue to grow in size and number; rarely is it not blooming. It serves as a visual reminder of the increase of peace and hope that God offers.