-----Original Message-----
From: kz7m
Sent: Monday, July 14, 2008 11:29 PM
To: cancercure@yahoogroups.com
Subject: [cancercure] Tony Snow


Tony Snow�An Integrated Life.



July 14th, 2008 by Mary Kochan �

The news that Tony Snow, a Catholic convert and national media
figure, had lost his battle with colon cancer in the wee hours of
Saturday morning was not a surprise, but it was still a sad
disappointment. He is survived by his wife Jill and three children.
God comfort them.



Tony Snow always considered himself a very lucky man � even during
his years of struggle with the same cancer that had taken his mother
when he was 17. His gratitude for his many blessings bubbled out of
him like a wellspring of joy and his joy was contagious. His was the
very model of an integrated life � the same person in public as in
private, the same person on Sunday as on Wednesday, and the same
person playing as working.



He wore his Catholic faith unabashedly and without pretense and he
was not cowed by political correctness from publically asserting the
value and truth of the Christian faith and hope. So precious to him
was the deepening of faith that accompanied his illness that he
called the cancer, "the very best thing that ever happened to me,
other than marrying my wife." In a July 2007 article for Christianty
Today, "Cancer's Unexpected Blessings," he dilated upon what he
thought his illness had given him:



I don't know why I have cancer, and I don't much care. It is what it
is � a plain and indisputable fact. Yet even while staring into a
mirror darkly, great and stunning truths begin to take shape. Our
maladies define a central feature of our existence: We are fallen. We
are imperfect. Our bodies give out.



But despite this � because of it � God offers the possibility of
salvation and grace. We don't know how the narrative of our lives
will end, but we get to choose how to use the interval between now
and the moment we meet our Creator face-to-face�.



[R]emember that we were born not into death, but into life � and that
the journey continues after we have finished our days on this earth.
We accept this on faith, but that faith is nourished by a conviction
that stirs even within many nonbelieving hearts � an intuition that
the gift of life, once given, cannot be taken away. Those who have
been stricken enjoy the special privilege of being able to fight with
their might, main, and faith to live � fully, richly, exuberantly �
no matter how their days may be numbered�.



The moment you enter the Valley of the Shadow of Death, things
change. You discover that Christianity is not something doughy,
passive, pious, and soft. Faith may be the substance of things hoped
for, the evidence of things not seen. But it also draws you into a
world shorn of fearful caution. The life of belief teems with
thrills, boldness, danger, shocks, reversals, triumphs, and
epiphanies. Think of Paul, traipsing though the known world and
contemplating trips to what must have seemed the antipodes ( Spain ),
shaking the dust from his sandals, worrying not about the morrow, but
only about the moment.

There's nothing wilder than a life of humble virtue � for it is
through selflessness and service that God wrings from our bodies and
spirits the most we ever could give, the most we ever could offer,
and the most we ever could do�.



Through such trials [as a diagnosis of cancer], God bids us to
choose: Do we believe, or do we not? Will we be bold enough to love,
daring enough to serve, humble enough to submit, and strong enough to
acknowledge our limitations? Can we surrender our concern in things
that don't matter so that we might devote our remaining days to
things that do?�



What is man that Thou art mindful of him? We don't know much, but we
know this: No matter where we are, no matter what we do, no matter
how bleak or frightening our prospects, each and every one of us,
each and every day, lies in the same safe and impregnable place � in
the hollow of God's hand.



He declared numerous times, and ever more strongly as the disease
conquered his body, that he put his trust in God, that surrender was
the way to approach both death, and life:



It's not just saying "God, it's in your hands," but understanding
whatever may come afterwards is a matter of not trying to get God to
do stuff for you, except maybe to mow down some of the barriers that
separate you from God, because for all of us, our vanities get in the
way.



On May 12, 2007, at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the
Immaculate Conception, Tony Snow gave the 118th Annual Commencement
Address for the Catholic University of America. Please visit our
recently-opened channel, The Integrated Life, and read the text of
Tony Snow's address, "Reason, Faith, Vocation."



Tony Snow, rest in peace. May all barriers that separate you from
God quickly dissolve and may angels guide you to the New Jerusalem.







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