The first month of the treatment cycle is almost over.  Dad had chemo for 5 days straight.  Monday and Tuesday were not too bad, but by Wednesday, each day was progressively worse.  By Friday, the nausea, weakness and other side effects were in full force.  The weekend and following week were not pleasant.  He felt week and unable to do much at all.  But over the next two weeks he grew stronger.  He was able to get outside and do some things he had been wanting to do. 

The Levine Cancer Center provides my Mom with a calendar for the entire month that shows each appointment time, location and purpose.  When Dad is scheduled to receive a chemo treatment, the calendar will state the time, location and states, “Chair #.”  There are 9 different chairs in the treatment room so the number can change.

One day as I was looking over the schedule, seeing the word “chair” caught my attention.  I had seen it listed that way many times from the last time Dad was going through treatments.  But somehow this time it made me stop and think.

 It draws attention to the fact that it’s not just another routine appointment.  It’s not just a short visit with a nurse to draw blood.  It’s not a time to speak with the doctor.  It’s a time to receive the treatment that all the other appointments had been preparing for.

As I thought about that, I thought about another chair, or seat, reserved for us.

“But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, ⁵ made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. ⁶ And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, ⁷ in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. ⁸ For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— ⁹ not by works, so that no one can boast. ¹⁰ For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”  Ephesians 2:4-10 NIV

When we receive Christ as our Savior, we are seated in heavenly places.  Even as we continue to live our lives on this earth, we have our own chair already placed with our name on it in heaven.  And every God appointment we experience on this side of heaven is preparing us for the day when we take that seat, our appointed place, for all eternity.  I don’t completely understand how we are already seated with Him and still be here, but it makes sense.  He takes up residence in us through the Person of the Holy Spirit so we are already in residence with Him in heavenly realms, as well.

Dad is scheduled to begin the next round of treatment on Monday in Chair 06.  I can’t say he’s looking forward to sitting in that chair.  I can say that the wonderful ladies that work at Levine try to make each visit as comfortable as possible.  They came to realize pretty quickly when he first was diagnosed with t-cell lymphoma that my Dad loves to pick.  So every time he goes, there is friendly conversations and picking taking place.  Somehow the laughter relieves the gravity of what’s taking place in his body.  It has meant a lot to him and my Mom, and all of us, how well they have treated him.

Sometimes we just can’t understand the reasons why certain things take place.  Why we have to sit in some of the “chairs” we find ourselves in.  Why some appointments we face are difficult to go through.  We can, however, rest assured that each appointment with troubles and trials, each chair we have to spend a little time sitting in, Christ is sitting right there alongside us.  After all, if we are already seated beside Him and since He lives within us, His chair is always right next to ours.  He’s there taking care of us in each situation just as the wonderful ladies take care of my Dad.

So now I must ask, do you have an assigned chair waiting on you?  Have you received Christ as your Savior and know for sure the Father has seated you in heavenly places? There won’t be any extra chairs to pull up next to Christ once we leave this earth.  We either have our chair reserved or we won’t have one at all.

But for now, Dad, your chair awaits.