The morning of my brother’s last chemo infusion, the oncology physician assistant (PA) ran all over the hospital looking for a bell. It’s a tradition in Texas cancer hospitals: on the last day of chemotherapy, patients ring a brass bell to signify they’ve reached the end of their treatment.
But we were in Connecticut, and the hospital didn’t have a bell mounted to the wall of their oncology ward. It simply wasn’t a practice they’d adopted for their patients. The PA, after listening to our conversations about it for months, understood how important it was to us. My brother was one of the few (if only) younger men in his care, so he promised to find one.
That morning, he ran from floor to floor as the final drops of chemo dripped through my brother’s port. As the alarm went off to signify that it was finished, the nurses disconnected the IV one last time, the PA arrived, and my brother rang the bell. I still get a lump in my throat every single time I think back to that moment and picture my brother’s smile behind his mask, my mom’s cheers, and the medical team coming to join the celebration.
That moment marked the finish line, the mercy of a thousand answered prayers. It meant we could let down our shoulders for the first time in months. It meant we’d get to go home.
Beyond the Bell
Not every patient leaves the hospital. Many have heard others ring the bell, knowing their own care won’t have an end date this side of heaven. By God’s grace, my brother’s did. When we boarded a plane from Hartford to Houston, we left the chemo ward and the hotel keys behind.
We returned home weary but relieved—we thought his fight was over. We didn’t know how many battles he’d still have left to face.
In the two years that have passed since my brother’s diagnosis, the place where his port was inserted has healed over. His hair has grown back. The fatigue has faded, and he runs a faster mile than most people I know.But the emotional weight of walking through the valley of the shadow of death doesn’t always disappear once you come to the other side. The perspective that comes when you look back on all that you’ve encountered can bring a new form of heartache.
Today, while my brother is still in remission, he’s on a three-month testing and appointment schedule, the kind that throws a patient and his family back into the grief cycle every twelve weeks, battling fear all over again. It’s why support groups and counseling exists not only for cancer patients but cancer survivors.
Those who needed God to physically heal them in the midst of the fight still need Him to sustain them in the aftermath—and they need you to continue lifting them up in prayer.
7 Prayers for a Cancer Patient in Remission
During the first few weeks of my brother’s treatment, he told our family how he wanted people to pray for his treatment.
“Pray,” he said, “that I’ll want Jesus more than I want to be healed from the cancer.”
I shared that quote in “Five Prayers for the Chemo Patient,” a Revive Our Hearts blog post written just a few weeks into his treatment. It’s one I wrote with tears streaming down my cheeks while sitting in our one-bedroom hotel room. In those days, as I prayed for him, I prayed that we, as his family, would also see Jesus as better than his being healed.
That prayer request didn’t expire once he reached remission; it’s only shifted as he’s transitioned to a new season. Now the prayer request is that he’ll want Jesus—
- More than the assurance of no recurrence.
- More than a return to the way life was before.
- More than relief from lingering weakness or pain.
- More than a future without fear.
- More than the promise of a long life.
You have people in your life—precious family members, friends, or folks within your church community—who have also walked through cancer treatment. You may have stopped checking in on them once they reached remission, but they may be quietly struggling in the aftermath. No matter how much time has passed since their last infusion, no matter how long they’ve been in remission, it’s possible they’re still trying to find their footing on the other side—and they may have been left to figure it out alone.
Those loved ones could still use your prayer support. Will you take the time to pray for them now? As you read through these prayers, personalize them by filling in the name of the person the Holy Spirit brings to mind.
1. Lord, remind _______ that You remain.
Symptoms come and go, seasons change, but Lord, You remain. So much of ____’s life changed with the cancer diagnosis and has changed again in the aftermath. In the midst of all of it, You have been steadfast. Your love has never wavered, and Your faithfulness hasn’t faded. Help ____ to find stability in clinging to the truth that “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever!” (Heb. 13:8).
2. Lord, anchor _____’s identity in You.
As _____ tries to reconcile who he was before with who he is now, and as he wrestles with how much of his past to share with people he meets in the future, give him eyes to see himself as You do. His worth is not determined by his health, his story, or how others respond to it. Remove any shame that he feels in association with his diagnosis or disease. May he understand in fresh ways what it means to be rooted and grounded in Jesus, knowing that “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!” (2 Cor. 5:17). Remind _____ daily that his truest identity is found not in being a cancer survivor but in belonging to You.
3. Lord, remind _____ that You are sovereign over every loss.
Few will ever have any idea of all that cancer costs, but You know. You saw the weeks, months, and years this stole from his life, all the missed opportunities, and the relationships that were impacted along the way. Remind _____ that none of it was wasted. Even the losses he still grieves are subject to Your redemption. You’re still the God who restores the years that the locusts have eaten (Joel 2:25), and You’re working all things, including suffering, for good (Rom. 8:28). Give him peace in knowing that what he lost pales in comparison to what is his in Christ.
4. Lord, heal _____ from every lingering symptom and side effect.
Lord, we turned to You with the initial diagnosis, trusting that You had full control of all things—every test, every treatment, and every side effect. We’re looking to You now for all the symptoms that linger and all the weakness that remains. You are just as able now to fully heal him, whether it’s through a miracle, medical experts, or some other means. Whether You choose to show Your power by taking away his remaining symptoms, or whether You choose to show Your strength by working in the midst of it, remind _____ that Your grace is sufficient. May Your power be perfected in his weakness (2 Cor. 12:7–9).
5. Lord, may ____ never forget all You’ve already done.
If You never did anything else, You’ve already done more than enough. May _____ never lose sight of the kindness You’ve shown him in Christ. Thank You for Your mercy and Your healing, for the gift of good doctors, and for the thousands of ways You revealed Your goodness. May he never get over the grace You showed through this cancer journey; may it be a reason for gratitude for the rest of his life and a testimony that tells the world of Your faithfulness.
6. Lord, allow _____ to rest knowing the future is in Your hands.
You alone hold tomorrow, and You alone know what lies ahead for _____. Guard his heart and mind with your overwhelming peace (Phil. 4:7). You are not threatened by the possibility of a recurrence. Future health complications don’t catch You by surprise. You have held every one of His days in Your hands, and You already know what’s to come. May he find comfort in knowing that he does not need to carry the weight of tomorrow, for You have already gone before him. Remind him of Your past works, so that when he looks to the future, it will be with Your hope.
7. Lord, turn _____’s eyes to eternity.
It’s a gift when the suffering we experience increases our longing for heaven. Thank You for the ways You’ve used this season to remind him that there will be a day when every enemy—and every disease—will be put under Your feet (1 Cor. 15:25). What a comfort it is to know that there will be a day when every tear will be wiped away: “Death will be no more; grief, crying, and pain will be no more” (Rev. 21:4). May _____ not only live for the day when cancer is but a distant memory; may he live for the day when he’ll be with You, Jesus.
Make it soon. Make it soon. Make it soon.
An Anchor in the Aftermath
Today, in a hospital somewhere in America, a cancer patient will come to the end of his or her chemo treatment, and the sweet sound of a bell ringing will echo through the hallways.
As the family member or friend of a cancer patient, you may be invited to witness this important milestone. As your loved one enters remission, it’s easy to view the moment as the final victory of a long battle. The truth is, their journey doesn’t end there; the fight after the fight continues. But for many cancer patients, the prayers of those who supported them through treatment fade away once the bell rings.
Cancer survivors still need prayers—your prayers—as they find strength in the Lord for the road ahead. Your prayers can offer them a powerful reminder of God’s presence and help renew their hope in Christ for all that is to come. He’s been faithful to them up until this point; may your prayers be a reminder that He won’t fail them now.
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