The ‘RAW’ conversation between David de Vos and Jan Pool
Living in the Tension of Sickness and Faith
Expectations in uncertain times
My wife and I watched the compelling YouTube conversation between David de Vos and Jan Pool this past Sunday with deep attention. Jan has received the serious diagnosis of Multiple Myeloma (Kahler’s disease), a devastating piece of news that has, understandably, completely turned his world upside down.
This conversation particularly resonated with us because, over the past five years, I have twice received a diagnosis from the oncologist myself. Thankfully, thanks to the power of prayer within our church community, the intercession of many, and medical intervention—including chemo and radiation—healing was granted. I feel profoundly blessed because of this, though I know it could just as easily have turned out differently. That’s why I deeply understand the emotion, the doubt, and the uncertainty that surfaced during that discussion. Illness inevitably confronts us with our own vulnerability. It takes us to places we would rather avoid. And yet, surprisingly, it is precisely there that something truly valuable can happen.
So many precious themes were touched upon in this conversation that I have incorporated a large part of them into this article. So much has already been said and written about healing (or the lack thereof) that I find it a breath of fresh air that David and Jan spoke so openly and honestly about this sensitive subject. I fully recognise the perspective that was brought forward.
When certainty falls away
Jan Pool raised a crucial point in the discussion: in times of crisis, we often receive well-intended advice. People want to help, which is logical. But sometimes, messages are included that are extra painful, such as: “If you just had more faith, you would be fine.”
When I was ill, I also received my share of advice and hints. Perhaps not as much as Jan Pool, but the undertone was sometimes the same: ‘You’re partly to blame for this; you should have gone to such and such a healing service.’
There is a fundamental misunderstanding in this approach. Nowhere in the Biblical stories about healing is a sick person reproached for a lack of faith. On the contrary, the responsibility lies with those who pray, not with those who suffer. They are already having a hard enough time. After all, it is not only physical suffering; often, spiritual suffering is involved as well. Suddenly, you can no longer do what was once taken for granted. What you used to do without a second thought now feels like a monumental task.
And yet—and this is the comfort for every sick person, for everyone who has not yet been healed—God’s nearness can be experienced more intensely in that brokenness than we often miss in healthy times.
The power of letting go
Jan Pool shared in his conversation with David de Vos that a moment came when everything had to become still. Away from the busyness, away from expectations, away from the need to be significant. In that stillness, he heard a sentence that changed everything: “You don’t have to do anything anymore. It is enough that I love you.”
Letting go of control is not a heavy burden; it is a liberation. Not because we give up hope, but because we realise we were never the director of our own lives. And that, quite honestly, is fantastic news.
Grieving and expecting
There is a subtle but important difference between hoping and holding onto an expectation. Expectation lives in tension: holding onto the possibility of a miracle while simultaneously experiencing the raw reality of today. Grieving and expecting at the same time is a difficult package, but it is possible. Because expectation is not a denial of pain. It is the refusal to let fear rule your mind. Fear whispers: “Don’t expect anything, and you won’t be disappointed.” But expectation says: “I continue to look forward to good, even if I don’t understand how or when.”
God as mystery
Of course, we want to understand God. We seek explanations, answers to the ‘why’ of what is happening to us. But what if the encounter with God is more important than the answer?
Look at the story of Job. He asks God a thousand questions but doesn’t get one answered. What he does get is an encounter. And that encounter changes everything. Because answers reassure, but presence comforts. God is so much bigger than our questions. He is more than just Healer, more than just Helper. He is the one who remains, even in the deepest valley. And it is precisely there that we discover what comfort truly means.
Peace amidst the storm
Peace is not the absence of problems. Peace is the presence of God in your life. You can be going through dreadful circumstances and yet experience that you lack nothing. Not because everything is going well, but because He is present.
This is not wishful thinking or denial of pain. This is the profound truth that all things can work together for good—even the things that are not from God. He takes what is broken and makes something beautiful out of it. Not always in the way we expect, but always with a love that never ceases.
Continuing to live in expectation
Expectation requires courage. It requires choosing to trust anew every day, even when circumstances contradict it. That doesn’t mean we pretend everything is okay. It means we refuse to close the door on miracle.
In our marriage, we are currently dealing with a chronic, incurable disease. “You could live to be a hundred with it,” the hematologist recently said, but that doesn’t negate the fact that fatigue is a heavy, daily burden for my beloved. Yet, we pray together every day. We articulate our trust and hope for recovery. We look forward to the day breakthrough comes.
His name is Wonderful. Not because He always does what we ask, but because He is bigger than our expectations and closer than our fears.
So, we live with that tension. With pain and with hope. With realism and with expectation. We acknowledge what is difficult, and we continue to look forward to good. We mourn what is lost, and we celebrate what remains. And in that tension, we discover that it is true: even here, even now, we lack nothing. Not because we have everything, but because we have Him. And He is enough.
That is not a cliché. That is life.
Watch this beautiful conversation here on RAUW TALK
@ Wim van Putten