Let me share with you my story which I hope will encourage you when times like that come your way. In December 2012, I lost my appetite. I was quickly losing weight and finding myself going from originally 195 pounds to 130 pounds at 5’10." Of course this concerned me because I lost my appetite for even eating my favorite rocky road ice cream.
I decided to call my doctor to see what was going on. I made an appointment and before I knew it they were doing an MRI on my stomach. I didn't feel sick and I didn't look sick so they didn't know what could be wrong. All I wanted was to eat ice cream again. Two days later my doctor called me up saying "Paul I'd like you to come in to see me." Not feeling all that concerned about it I said "well how about next week" and he said "no you need to come in tomorrow." I said OK.
As I walked into his examining room, I saw the image of my stomach on his computer screen. It was obvious to me that there was something seriously wrong with my stomach because half of it looked like someone took a shotgun to it and the other side was nice and smooth. He didn't have to tell me what I had because I knew what it was. I was looking at my stomach with stage four, terminal Cancer. This wasn't good because I already had adult Diabetes and Hepatitis C from paint remover chemicals from refinishing antiques in my early twenties. Then I asked him "doc, how long do I have?" The vague answer he gave me didn't make me feel all that good but it was accurate. He said "Paul, I don't know." And we won't know until after we do about 60 days of tests with the pathologist.
That's when the feeling of despair hit me as I remembered a friend of mine at 41 years old who had the same diagnosis and he lived only 30 days. Of course, one's mind goes into hyperdrive, thinking I'd better get my affairs together. When he told me it was going to be 60 days I was thinking I only had 30 days considering I had the same condition as my friend. So we made arrangement for some check ups and I entered into that 60 day tunnel of tests, inspections, cameras and tubes of blood tests. I remember driving home thinking I’ve got one more month to live. I won't be alive for 60 days to get the final results. Upon arriving at my house, I remembered about my friend the Great Physician.
So being there by myself I got down on my knees in my front room calling upon the Lord. Then I remembered God's promises. I prayed this simple, short prayer. I said "dear Lord, you've never lied. You've never broken any of your promises. And in your Bible you promised to finish the work you started in me. You see, I remembered when I was just eight years old that you told me that someday I would be doing something great for America. Now Lord, I’m not ungrateful about my life of 60 years. I've had a fantastic life. I've done more than most people have done in three lifetimes. Actually Father, if You want, I’m ready to come home now. I understand I have terminal stomach Cancer Father and unless you heal me I won’t be around for you to finish that work you started me. Please heal me.” That was all I said. So I got up off my knees and another verse from the Bible came to mind.
I didn’t know why this verse made sense because that verse said "happy are the feet that bring good news." Why would I think of that verse when my feet weren’t all that happy. What that meant was that I didn’t feel like dancing because, quite frankly, I was scared. It was then that I decided to trust the Lord because there really wasn’t anything else I could do. That was December 12, 2012, with Christmas just around the corner and I thought I don’t want to bum everybody out at Christmas time. So I decided to keep it a secret. I didn’t tell my wife. I didn’t tell my son. I didn’t run to my pastor to be anointed with oil and prayed over. I didn’t tell anybody. I decided that until I knew the results of the tests, I would act as if I was still my normal self.
After all, I’d been raised as a Christian so why would I lose my joy (happy feet) because I’d either be healed or I’d be in heaven. Thirteen days later we were celebrating Christmas and soon after New Year’s. Nobody knew I was sick. I was trusting God and keeping it to myself until the doctor’s results were in. On February 12, 2013, the phone rang and it was my doctor. He proceeded to tell me the test results are in. I quickly asked, “Doc, how long do I have?” Once again he replied “I don’t know. In fact there’s a problem. Actually it’s not a problem.
The truth is this, Paul, every doctor here in Kaiser Hospital where every pathologist, oncologist came to look at your test results in amazement. The fact Paul is we couldn’t find one cancer cell in your body. Not only that, your Hepatitis C is also gone.” I had gotten Hepatitis C due to chemicals in paint remover from restoring antiques in my college years. For sixteen years the doctor had been monitoring my hepatitis. He said they really couldn’t understand why I was cured of cancer and hepatitis. They had no explanation for it. So I quickly responded “well doc I prayed one prayer to God above. He heard me. The Creator of the Universe and the One who made me healed me.” Certainly the medical community today doesn’t want to admit such a thing. They think that they are God and that nobody gets healed from a prayer. I said “well you can’t give me any other explanation can you?” He didn’t know what to say but I knew the truth. Jesus Christ, my Savior, heard my prayer healing me.
Pretty soon it will be eight years since that conversation. I still get tested every six months and I’m still cancer free and no hepatitis. Even better God kept His promise! Today I am doing great work in America. I ran for California US Senate in 2018. And now I’m the campaign advisor for Ellen Lee Zhou, who is running for Mayor of San Francisco. I’m so grateful. Not just for the healing but for God keeping His promise. I learned a lot having gone through this. I could have, back in 2012, felt sorry for myself. I might have told everyone "woe is me, I’m dying." I could’ve let despair take over. I knew that despair happens when we turn our backs on God. But I didn’t do that. I went right to His throne because his Word says “You have not because you ask not.” If I didn’t believe He was my Heavenly Father who loves me and if I didn’t trust Him to ask Him according to his promises, I’d feel today (provided I was alive) that I wouldn’t have been doing my part.
also realized that being a Christian was not about just memorizing verses. Not just about going to church on Sunday. Instead it’s about a relationship with the Creator who loves me and He loves you. According to his Bible He does have responsibilities to his children. And we have responsibilities too. Three hundred sixty-five times in the Bible it says "fear not." We’re told to trust him, not to be worried. And I fully believe that He healed me because I made him a promise. And I believe he healed me for two reasons. Actually three reasons. I asked him to heal me. I reminded myself of His promises. And Jesus knew that I wanted to serve Him and use this testimony to help encourage others to do the same. So how about you? What will you do when you get that phone call? Will you turn your back on God and choose despair? Or will you do as I did go into the throne reminding Him of His promises? Of course God never forgets, He just wants you to show Him when things look hopeless to you that you know what to do. Then keep your joy and prepare to dance once again with happy feet. Paul Taylor