My Cousin Monty

I realize that the title of this post might sound a lot like the classic movie "My Cousin Vinny," but believe me when I tell you that this post has nothing to do with Joe Pesci!

I got a call this last Saturday morning from my aunt Susan, who had some bad news to tell me - that my cousin Monty was just diagnosed with Stage 4 small cell cancer. He has cancer in his lungs, kidneys, and lower back, and is waiting to hear the results of it being in his spine.

Monty is someone that I usually only see once a year at Thanksgiving at my aunt and uncle's, but he has meant a lot to me over the years. I used to look up to him, and thought he was one of the "cool" kids that I wanted to be like. His life has been an example of struggles, and learning to overcome some of them.

Growing up, Monty was a very outgoing, popular, athletic kid. He was the first person in my family to get a four-wheeler, and the first person to break some bones when he crashed it and shattered his arm! He also was a really good football player, until he began drinking too much in junior high school, which in turn led to problems with drug abuse. Monty struggled mightily with these addictions, but after going through treatment he managed to conquer them.

I can remember from a very early age looking up to Monty, not only because he was 3 years older than me and quite a bit taller, but because he always made a point of including me in things. My first experience (and thankfully one of my last experiences) with smoking cigarettes was attributed to him. He managed to smuggle some of his dad's cigarettes, and put them in his roll-on deodorant stick for us to partake in later. Once we found a remote place in my grandmother's yard to try them, he took them out of the deodorant stick, handed one to me and my brother, and we lit up. As soon as I lit mine, I was suddenly aware of what it was like to be smoking deodorant - the cigarettes tasted just like the deodorant stick that they were stored in! Let's just say that ever since then, my stomach turns when I am near cigarettes and I instantly flash back to that fateful experience!

Monty was the first person to also spark my interest in rock music, as he introduced me to the Styx and to Huey Lewis and the News - maybe not rock-and-roll hall of fame worthy bands, but it's music that still speaks to me to this day.

I've been thinking a lot about Monty the last few days. Wondering what it must feel like to be only 39 years old, facing a prognosis of 3 to 12 months left on this earth. I know that he is not a Christian, and my heart and mind ache for him and my aunt and uncle, as I've prayed for him to come to know God. Maybe I will be used by God in Monty's life, so I am praying for the right words to say and the confidence to say them if I am presented with the opportunity. If you think of it this week, please say a prayer for Monty, and my aunt Susan and uncle Gale - I cannot imagine the pain they must be dealing with.

I know that our God is a God of miracles, so my prayer for Monty is to be healed, and if not healed, than to come to know the Lord.