Edited by Jim McCrory, Friday, 18 July 2025, 22:32
I sat in that sterile room and heard the doctor say “cancer,”
A Year to Live — and a Psalm to Hold on To
In September 2023, I was given a year to live.
Neuroendocrine cancer, which began quietly in the prostate, had spread its wings and made itself at home in my pancreas and liver. The words came gently from the doctor, but they shook the earth beneath me. How do you take news like that? There’s no script for it.
And yet… God had already written one.
The morning, I was due to receive my results, something extraordinary happened. Before I stepped into the hospital — before the diagnosis had a name or a timeline — God spoke to me through words I hadn’t sought, but that found me like a lifeline dropped into deep waters.
It was Psalm 91:1–2:
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’"
I didn’t read those words casually. They were spoken into my spirit — not just read, but revealed. It was as if God said, “This is for you. For today. For what you’re about to hear.”
And He didn’t stop there.
Later that evening, my wife — who has walked every step of this with me — pointed out something I had overlooked. She had been reading the same Psalm, but her eyes were drawn to the closing verses:
“Because he loves Me, I will deliver him; because he knows My name, I will protect him. When he calls out to Me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble. I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him My salvation.” — Psalm 91:14–16
In her quiet way, she saw what I needed. God was not just speaking to me about protection — He was promising presence. Not just shelter, but companionship in trouble. Not just deliverance, but honor. And most tenderly of all, long life — whether in days or eternity — and salvation.
To anyone who is suffering, to anyone who has sat in that sterile room and heard the doctor say “cancer,” or who lies awake wondering what the future holds: I want you to know that God still speaks. And more than that — He stays.
Psalm 91 doesn't promise the absence of pain. It promises His presence in it. It promises that when we love Him, when we call on Him, He hears. He answers. He walks with us.
I may have been given a year, but I have been given far more — I have been given hope. Not wishful thinking, but anchored hope. And I want to pass that on to you.
Because you are not alone.
He is with you.
Image generated with the assistance of Micsosoft Copilot
A Year to Live — and a Psalm to Hold on To
I sat in that sterile room and heard the doctor say “cancer,”
A Year to Live — and a Psalm to Hold on To
In September 2023, I was given a year to live.
Neuroendocrine cancer, which began quietly in the prostate, had spread its wings and made itself at home in my pancreas and liver. The words came gently from the doctor, but they shook the earth beneath me. How do you take news like that? There’s no script for it.
And yet… God had already written one.
The morning, I was due to receive my results, something extraordinary happened. Before I stepped into the hospital — before the diagnosis had a name or a timeline — God spoke to me through words I hadn’t sought, but that found me like a lifeline dropped into deep waters.
It was Psalm 91:1–2:
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.’"
I didn’t read those words casually. They were spoken into my spirit — not just read, but revealed. It was as if God said, “This is for you. For today. For what you’re about to hear.”
And He didn’t stop there.
Later that evening, my wife — who has walked every step of this with me — pointed out something I had overlooked. She had been reading the same Psalm, but her eyes were drawn to the closing verses:
“Because he loves Me, I will deliver him;
because he knows My name, I will protect him.
When he calls out to Me, I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble.
I will deliver him and honor him.
With long life I will satisfy him
and show him My salvation.” — Psalm 91:14–16
In her quiet way, she saw what I needed. God was not just speaking to me about protection — He was promising presence. Not just shelter, but companionship in trouble. Not just deliverance, but honor. And most tenderly of all, long life — whether in days or eternity — and salvation.
To anyone who is suffering, to anyone who has sat in that sterile room and heard the doctor say “cancer,” or who lies awake wondering what the future holds: I want you to know that God still speaks. And more than that — He stays.
Psalm 91 doesn't promise the absence of pain. It promises His presence in it. It promises that when we love Him, when we call on Him, He hears. He answers. He walks with us.
I may have been given a year, but I have been given far more — I have been given hope. Not wishful thinking, but anchored hope. And I want to pass that on to you.
Because you are not alone.
He is with you.
Image generated with the assistance of Micsosoft Copilot