An Emotional Roller Coaster

“Jesus Christ is [eternally changeless, always] the same yesterday and today and forever.” — Hebrews 13:8 (AMP)

Roller coasters are full of surprises. You never know what sharp turn or steep drop will come next—that is why people buy the ticket. There is something thrilling about the unknown, the anticipation, the adrenaline rush of not knowing what is around the corner.

But the cancer journey can feel just as unpredictable as any roller coaster ride—except it is not fun, and no one willingly stands in line for this ticket. No one hopes for the steep drops of devastating news, the sharp turns of changing treatment plans, or the dizzying loops of uncertainty that leave you disoriented.

Life with cancer feels like being strapped into a roller coaster I never chose to board. Yet here I am—secured in for a ride I did not select, on a track I cannot step off.

One moment I am climbing slowly toward hope—good test results, successful treatments, days when I feel almost normal. Then suddenly I plunge into valleys of fear, uncertainty, and physical challenges that take my breath away. The twists and turns arrive without warning: unexpected side effects, another surgery, or simply the reality that tomorrow feels uncertain.

In the middle of this emotional turbulence, there is one truth that steadies my soul: Jesus Christ is eternally changeless. While my body shifts, while treatment plans adjust, while emotions swing from hope to fear and back again—He remains the same.

• On October 15, 2010, when I first heard the diagnosis, He was there.
• Today, as I prepare for another surgery in 2025, He is here.
• Tomorrow, whatever it brings, He will still be there.

The ride may be unpredictable, but the One who rides with me is not.

When you are on a roller coaster you never wanted to board, how do you maintain emotional and spiritual balance? I am learning that while I cannot control the ride, I can choose where I focus my attention.

Focus Beyond the Cancer
Some days the diagnosis consumes every thought. But intentionally shifting my attention—even briefly—gives my soul room to breathe. Watching a sunrise, calling a friend, reading a book—these small moments remind me that I am more than my medical chart.

Writing and Sharing Devotionals
Writing has become my processing tool. Some entries are raw. Some are grateful. Some are confused. But on paper I can see patterns—not only in my emotions, but in God’s faithfulness. These devotionals stand as evidence that I am navigating each twist and turn one day at a time.

Learn the Facts, Find the Peace
Understanding my condition and treatments does not remove uncertainty, but it helps me face it with clarity. Asking questions, researching options, and engaging with doctors allows me to steward what I can while surrendering what I cannot.

Spiritual Anchors

• Pray about everything. Nothing is too small or too overwhelming for God. Fear does not mean I lack faith—it means I am human. And when I bring fear honestly before Him, I make space for His peace.
• Listen to worship music.
• Sing to the Lord.
• Guard what enters through your “ear gate” and “eye gate.” What we consume shapes our spirit.
• Look up. As D. L. Moody said, “Let God have your life; He can do more with it than you can.” Surrender the past, the present, and the unknown future to Him.

Looking up shifts perspective. My circumstances may feel immense, but they are not larger than the God who holds the universe. When I lift my eyes, I invite His peace into my anxiety, His strength into my weakness, and His hope into my uncertainty.

Never Ride Alone

The greatest comfort I hold as a follower of Christ is this: I never ride alone. Others may not fully understand the unique fears of this journey, but Jesus does. He sees every sharp turn before it comes. When the ride feels too intense, I remember that the same Savior who calmed the storm on Galilee is with me now.

He has not changed.
His love has not wavered.
His promises have not expired.

The cancer coaster may continue to climb and fall, twist and turn. But I am secured not by positive thinking or medical advancements alone. I am held by the unchanging nature of the One who was, and is, and is to come.

Scroll to Top