Cancer Made Me Severely Depressed, Then I Got an Unexpected Phone Call

It was 6 p.m. on a Sunday evening. My family had once again gone to church without me, as I was not healthy enough to go with them. So I sat home alone, listening to the radio broadcast of our church's service.

Frustrated and angry, I turned off the radio and walked to the kitchen to find something to soothe the pain in my throat — pain from radiation burns for my cancer. A few years earlier, doctors had found a 5-pound tumor attached to my heart and lungs: Hodgkin's lymphoma. It had taken more than a dozen surgeries to remove the tumor and fix ensuing complications, and now I had started chemotherapy.

When I all I found was milk, I got even angrier and slammed the refrigerator door. I looked at the ceiling and shook my fist as if I was shaking it in the face of God.

"God, I can't stand this another minute!" I blurted.

Then I realized what I had done. I lashed out at God. It truly was my weakest moment.

I shuffled to my office and sat down in my chair, just staring at the wall. I had never felt more alone in my entire life.

Finally my eyes caught a book on the shelf on Depression. A pastor in Oregon who had a nervous breakdown and suffered resulting depression wrote it. I had never read it, but I felt like I needed to read it right then.

I realize depression is a serious disease. I'm not suggesting all a person needs to do in the face of depression is read a book. But God wanted me to read that book that night.

I read the entire book in one sitting and was encouraged by the author's transparent odyssey through depression. I gained strength from the Scripture he used in telling his story. I wrote down the references on an index card, along with the steps the author took that delivered him from depression.

I was so convicted, that I slipped to my knees and humbly asked God to forgive me for my angry outburst. When I finally fell asleep that evening, there was peace.

The next day, my wife urged me to get out of the house for a few hours. She suggested I go to the office, check my mail and come home if I did not feel well. So I did.

I was not in my office for five minutes when my assistant called me, saying there was a pastor on the line wanting to speak with me.

"He said it's personal and urgent, but he won't give his name," she said. Reluctantly, I took the call.

"I'm suffering from acute depression," the pastor said. "Can you help me?"

As he told me his story, I remembered the index card in my shirt pocket. I pulled it out and shared verses from the Bible, and steps he needed to take. It was exactly what he needed to hear. He asked how I knew so much.

"Let me tell you what happened to me last night," I said.

I told him about my weakest moment. When I finished, we were both weeping. He promised he would seek professional help. We prayed and said good-bye. To this day, I don't know his name.

But that's not the end of the story.

Later that day, I received a phone call from a dear friend who was the head coach of a local university's football team. He wanted me to come to a party on campus that night for just a few minutes, as it would mean so much to the players. Reluctantly, I agreed to come.

When I arrived, a huge lineman walked up to me and said, "Can I speak with you?"

He said he prayed for me every day. After every practice, his coach would have the entire team take a knee on the 50-yard line and pray God would heal me.

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