The Tribune

By PASTOR PATRICIA JOHNSON PRATT

In 2019, the monster called cancer invaded my family and cruelly claimed the life of my beloved sister. It was one of the most painful and devastating experiences my family and I have ever endured.

Even to this day, the grief remains, and the wounds of losing her still feel painfully fresh. Though time has passed, the pain has not fully subsided, and some days, the healing we long for still feels far away.

As if the pain of 2019 wasn’t enough, in 2025, cancer struck our family once again, claiming the life of yet another beloved sister.

It was at that moment when the grief seemed to come in waves and the losses felt unbearable, I honestly wondered if God had somehow turned against us.

But deep down, I knew that was far from the truth. Still, the questions came, and the pain was overwhelming. The wounds that had never fully healed from our first loss were torn open even wider, leaving my entire family grappling with heartbreak, confusion, and one haunting question: WHY? Why our family? Why another sister? Why did we have to endure this pain all over again? We were left struggling to make sense of a loss that words could hardly explain and a grief that seemed too heavy to bear.

Time did not heal our wounds, and in those moments of deep grief, even the scriptures we knew seemed to fly right over our heads. Nevertheless, we held on to God, leaning on Him and drawing strength from one another. When one of us felt too weak to stand, we leaned on the strength of whoever had enough to help carry us through that moment. Somehow, we kept going, even when our hearts were broken and we struggled to understand.

Now, here we are in October, recognised as Cancer Awareness Month, and I have found myself wrestling with a flood of emotions surrounding the whole issue of cancer. I cannot ignore the reality that there are so many who have survived this monster and are living testimonies of victory. I can’t ignore the reality that there are others who are still fighting, holding on to hope as they navigate the uncertainty of their journey and I most certainly cannot ignore the reality that there are those, like my family, who have experienced the devastating pain of losing loved ones to this disease. But the fact of the matter is, behind every statistic is a story, behind every diagnosis is a family, and behind every loss is a heart left to grieve. He who feels it, understands.

But as I reflect on all of this, I am led to share these declarations in faith to “The Survivor, The Warrior and The Grieving” and pray that you would be strengthened, that your hope will be renewed and that you will remember that no matter what, God is still God and loves you with an everlasting love and that He still has the final word concerning you.

Romans 8:37 says “Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.” I declare that your diagnosis does not define you, your scars do not disqualify you, and your battle does not diminish your worth but that you will rise in faith, walk in courage, and live with hope in the name of Jesus.

Jeremiah 30:17 says “I will give you back your health and heal your wounds,” says the Lord. And therefore, I make this declaration of healing, believing that as you continue to trust in God for restoration, God would finish what He started in the name of Jesus. I speak wholeness over every broken body, peace over every troubled mind, and I declare hope over every difficult report in the name of Jesus. God is still able.

Isaiah 40:31 says that “But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. And so I declare the strength of The Lord over every weak body in the name of Jesus. I declare that weariness will not have the final say and that when your strength is depleted, you will lean on the everlasting arms of God, and you will rise again, taking one day at a time, as the Lord sustains you by His grace.

I lift up those still battling and declare that you will face this battle with courage, with faith, and with determination in the name of Jesus. I declare according to 2 Corinthians 12:9 that “God’s grace is sufficient for you, and that His strength is made perfect in weakness.” And I declare that fear will not silence your prayers, and uncertainty will not steal today's hope but that you will fight with faith, receive the help that you need, trusting God through every step in the name of Jesus.

I declare over every survivor according to Psalm 118:17 that you will not die but live, and that you will proclaim what the Lord has done. Hallelujah. I declare that you will embrace the gift of today and the possibilities of tomorrow and that you will know that your lives have value, your voice still matters and that your story is still being written in the name of Jesus. The end of a thing is better than the beginning.

I declare according to Psalm 34:18 that “The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart.” And so I declare that the loss of your loved one will not erase the love you shared, the memories you created, or the impact their life made in yours. The Lord gives us the permission to grieve without guilt, to remember without fear, and to heal without feeling that we are forgetting them. I declare that we will not rush our healing or be bound by grief and that even though cancer may have taken someone precious, it cannot erase the love, memories, or legacy they left behind. And I declare that by the grace of God, we will honour their life, embrace our healing, and find the strength to live again in the name of Jesus.

Now, Father, in the mighty name of Jesus, I declare Your peace over every troubled mind, every anxious heart, and every soul overwhelmed by the weight of a cancer diagnosis, the uncertainty of treatment, or the pain of losing a loved one. I declare that anxiety will not consume you, fear will not control you, and despair will not have the final say over your life. And I pray that the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, become your anchor in the waiting room, your strength during treatment, your comfort in the midnight hour, and your refuge in the silence of grief. And I pray that when you just can’t find the words to say, the Holy Spirit will minister to you in ways that words cannot express in Jesus mighty name, Amen.