Eleven years. That is how long she had been living with cancer. Not fighting it in a single dramatic battle, but coexisting with it — scan after scan, year after year, the disease moving through her body like an unwanted tenant who refuses to leave.
By the time she found the London Healing Rooms, the cancer had made itself at home in multiple locations. A December 2005 scan revealed the extent of it: three nodules in her left lung. Lesions in her vertebral bodies — her spine. Lesions in her pelvis.
The cancer had spread. And with it, the fear had spread too.
The Fear
Living with cancer for more than a decade changes you. The initial shock wears off. The adrenaline fades. What remains is something quieter and, in many ways, worse: a chronic, low-grade fear that colours everything. Every ache is suspicious. Every scan is a potential death sentence. Every good result is temporary, because you have learned — through bitter experience — that cancer comes back.
She had lived in that state for eleven years. Eleven years of scans. Eleven years of waiting rooms. Eleven years of the fear that sits in your stomach and never quite leaves.
It was not the sharp terror of a new diagnosis. It was the exhausting, grinding fear of a disease that had become part of her identity. She was not a woman who happened to have cancer. She was a cancer patient. The fear had defined her for over a decade.
The Healing Rooms
She found the London Healing Rooms and began attending. Not once. Not occasionally. Regularly, for nearly a year. Week after week, she showed up and let people pray for her.
The prayer teams did not promise a miracle. They did not guarantee a clean scan. They prayed with faith, with persistence, and with the kind of love that does not give up on someone just because the fight has been long.
And somewhere in those months of prayer, something began to shift. The fear — the companion of eleven years — started to loosen. It did not happen overnight. It happened gradually, prayer by prayer, visit by visit. The presence of God, experienced through the hands and voices of ordinary people in a room in East London, began to do what eleven years of scans had not: it set her free from the fear.
Not free from the cancer. Free from the fear. She found a peace that was not dependent on results. A trust in God that was not conditional on the next scan. For the first time in over a decade, she could breathe.
The Scan
After nearly a year of attending the Healing Rooms, she had her body scan. The results came back.
No evidence of bony metastases.
The lesions in her spine — gone. The lesions in her pelvis — gone. The nodules in her lungs — her consultant was impressed with the results. The body that had been hosting cancer for eleven years was showing signs of something the medical world calls "response" and the Bible calls healing.
She said it simply: "God is the same yesterday, today, and forevermore. You are the greatest healer."
What This Means for You
If you have been living with cancer for years — not in the dramatic, movie-moment way, but in the slow, grinding, every-scan-is-a-verdict way — this woman's story says something important.
It is never too late. Eleven years is not too long. Cancer that has spread to your lungs, your spine, your pelvis — it is not too far. The God who healed this woman after a decade of disease is not limited by time, by location, or by how long the fear has been living inside you.
You may have stopped hoping. You may have settled for managing the disease and managing the fear. But God has not settled. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. And He is still the greatest healer.
