We are afraid of the word itself - but there are so many people who have to learn not to be.

My father died with cancer - and I have faced it with many families that I have served as pastor. And I'm glad to say that I know more people who have lived with cancer than have died with it.

But that may be the toughest job - living with it.

And it can be as hard on the caregivers in a family as it is on the one who is sick - sometimes harder. The pain of those we love can seem unbearable.

Of course, that is exactly what the Cross is all about: the Lord bears our unbearable pain.

He takes the burden and gives us the promise. In him we have absolute security and safety.

I love that word: safety.

That is what the Lord guarantees us: safety.

That's what serious illness threatens to take away. That's what Jesus Christ offers us - at all times - in every situation: complete, unlimited, irrevocable safety.

That will hold - through pain, through uncertainty - through both life and death.

God's gifts are forever.

We are forever.

So if the word from the doctor is a hard word, let us receive it as though Jesus sat in the chair next to us, holding us firmly by the hand.

We are suddenly aware of our limited power, but the one who has all power has hold of us - and will not let us go.

"If God is for us," says Paul, "who can be against us?"

"Fear not," says Jesus, "I am with you always."

Illness is not the great enemy.

Fear is.

Once our trust in Christ has calmed our fear, we can live with anything. Our life does not belong to us. It belongs to the Lord, and we can leave it in his care.

We can, as the psalmist says, lie down again in peace --

"For you alone, O Lord, make me to dwell in safety." Psalm 4:8

(Worship somewhere this Sunday.)