From Opera House To Hospital

I have a master’s of music in voice, and when I was 22, I moved to Philadelphia to train in graduate school to become an opera singer. Some of my housemates invited me to check out the Vineyard in the suburbs of Philly – so I attended two years, stayed on the fringe, headed home after services and didn’t really volunteer.

When I finished school two years later, things took off in my opera career. Many times you can struggle your way through, yet things fell into place quickly for me. I won a contract with the Arizona Opera Company and moved out there to begin touring.

While I was out there, I started having a lot of pain – in my side, in my hip, in my back – but I never thought the pain was related. “Well, I have an injury from loading and unloading my sets,” or “I’ve been moving around so much on stage.” “I sleep in a different bed every week.” I could come up with a million explanations for why I had these pains.

I did try to see some doctors in Arizona, but since we were in a different city every week, no one could really do follow-up care or run intensive tests. They all said things like, “You’re under a lot of stress. You’re doing a lot of physical activity.” As time went on, the pain got worse; I couldn’t function normally. We were doing two shows every day, and in between shows I would be in bed. Eventually, I told my mom what was going on, and she convinced me to come stay with her in Florida for a while so I could get checked out by a more permanent doctor. The doctor thought maybe it was mono, or an injury; I was just waiting for them to narrow things down.

Eventually my legs started falling asleep all the time. One night I got up to turn on the TV and I collapsed.

After my mom brought me to the emergency room, I got an MRI. As soon as I came out, the doctor immediately said, “You have a large tumor on your spine.”

A Surreal Experience

It was shocking. I was in really good health otherwise, and I wasn’t even 25 yet. Thankfully, my mom had kept me on her health insurance after I graduated. I was kept in the hospital for nine days to be tested and to be treated with radiation and steroids to start bringing the tumor down. It was applying so much pressure to my spine they were worried it might paralyze me.

Two or three weeks after that, I was diagnosed with Stage 4 non-Hodgkins lymphoma. Stage 1 means the cancer’s in one quadrant of your body, Stage 2 means it’s in two, and so on. So the cancer was all through me. All of those pains I’d been having were actually tumors. Since this particular cancer normally affects men in their 60s, it was very strange. I would go into chemo and be in the hospital with these other patients. It was a surreal experience.

Something funny is that I didn’t doubt that I would beat the cancer. But I was angry and upset for losing the time. I knew I would never be 24 again. I knew it was a crucial time for my career. Things had started to take off, and now what? Opera companies don’t provide health insurance, so now I didn’t know how I would do this thing I’d trained my whole life for. And I was far from Philadelphia and all my friends. It was a really low point.

That was the beginning of everything.

The doctors put me on intensive chemotherapy, a process called RCHOPS – each letter stands for a different drug. I had all the worst side effects you ever hear about. My hair fell out. My relationship with food was weird. I couldn’t handle certain smells.

My mom took a leave of absence from work to help me, and thankfully I had a lot of friends who would come visit me every three weeks, right as I was beginning to feel better from each round of chemo and right before I would start the next round. And I had my dog. I had a round about every three weeks, so all in all, I had eight rounds over a period of about five months.

I was tested occasionally, and my cancer was shown to be decreasing. But at the end of the eight rounds, they scanned me and said I still had “cancerous activity,” that the cancer hadn’t completely gone away. And they can’t really give you more rounds after eight.

There was also a spot on my spine where the primary tumor had been. They told me I would probably always have something there; it’s called a “hard spot.” So even if the cancer was ever completely gone, I would always have back pain.

Praying For Healing

At this point I was just waiting to see what would happen. Fortunately while I was in Florida, I got connected with the St. Petersburg Vineyard, which was a wonderfully supportive community. They welcomed me and prayed for me. During this time I had no job. I was done with school. I was waiting. So I decided to go with some friends to the Vineyard Eastern Regional Conference and make a trip of it. It was my first conference, and it was a great time. The worship was really inspiring, there were helpful workshops, and I got to know people within the broader Vineyard.

A friend of mine was going to a workshop called “Midwifing the Holy Spirit,” led by Mike Turrigiano of the North Brooklyn Vineyard – and convinced me to come, even though I was planning on a different workshop. This one was about prayer, waiting on the Holy Spirit, listening for what he was saying or how he was leading, and doing whatever you’re feeling led to do.

We broke up into groups, and Mike said, “Now you’re going to try it.” He called six people into the middle of the circle – and I was one of them. By this time my hair was growing back and I could walk okay. I didn’t look as sick, and I didn’t tell him I still had cancer. I believe the Holy Spirit was showing him I needed to be prayed for.

The people around me started praying nice prayers and blessings – kind of “generic” prayers. But then Mike came around us and started praying for healing. Not in any hyped-up way, just simply. And it felt great. I’d been praying all this time, and other people had been praying all this time. And even though I didn’t feel like I’d been healed then, it was nice to know God hadn’t forgotten about me. [bctt tweet=”I didn’t feel like I’d been healed then, but it was nice to know I wasn’t forgotten. -Rachael Sutliff” quote=”And even though I didn’t feel like I’d been healed then, it was nice to know God hadn’t forgotten about me.”]

That night there was a party at one of the villas where people were staying. I was telling Becca, a co-pastor of the West Philly Vineyard, how my day had been – and especially about this experience in the workshop. And she said, “Did you tell Mike about your cancer?” I hadn’t, and she urged me to go over and talk to him. “Pastors need to be encouraged too!” she said. I knew she wasn’t going to let me out of it, so I awkwardly went to find him.

He was surrounded by a bunch of male Vineyard pastors, so I had to break into their conversation to tell Mike about my cancer and how I’d already finished all my treatments so there was nothing left to do. I told him that he had picked me out to be prayed for and that he was right. He said, “Well, let’s pray for you again!” All these guys put down their drinks and put their hands on me and prayed. It was a really meaningful time. [bctt tweet=”There wasn’t a flash of lightning or any sort of miraculous moment, but I felt really cared for.” quote=”There wasn’t a flash of lightning or any sort of miraculous moment, but I felt really cared for.”]

The next morning was the final day of the conference, and I went to worship. I was still feeling pain from the hard spot on my back; the doctors had been right about that. It was annoying. I was still on medication for it.

But during worship that final day, I felt a tingling sensation in that spot. It wasn’t painful at all, just tingly. And I was able to worship in a way that I had never before. I felt really free.

I really had this sense that that was it – that God had taken it.

A Full Recovery & A Family Transformed

I flew back to Florida after the conference and told my mom. She wasn’t a believer at the time, but we’d had conversations about my faith all along. I had been depressed while I was on chemo, but I was able to get through that because of my connection to the Vineyard. She was starting to be more open about the idea of putting her faith in Jesus.

When I told her my story from the conference, she was a little excited and obviously hoped I was right, but she was also a bit skeptical. So we went and I had my next scan – and sure enough, the doctor was able to say that I was cancer-free! Since then, my mom has given her life to Christ. And my brother, who had a rough time while I was in the hospital and started selling drugs, also has since given his life to Jesus. We’ve seen a complete transformation in his life; he’s been part of Youth with a Mission and has done some amazing things in South Africa and Haiti. It’s incredible to see what God has done.

And now I’m a pastor! I didn’t grow up in church, but during my cancer treatments I was thinking about how opera wasn’t a good practical option anymore. And to be honest, it didn’t turn out to be as satisfying or meaningful as I thought it would be. So I started thinking about how fun it would be to be part of a church plant and get to exercise some of my other gifts.

Toward the end of being sick, I started thinking through plans. Right after my doctor told me I was in remission, I got on a plane to move back to Philadelphia, where I am now. I got a job in higher education that provided health insurance. After that, I made the decision to go to seminary in a three-year Master’s of Divinity program. Before the end of my program, Becca decided she was going to transition off of staff at West Philly and I went through a long process of interviews and theological statements. But I was hired, and I’m in my dream job.

Since I went into remission, my doctors and I have never talked about the hard spot again, because I have not had any back pain since that day at the conference in 2006. I’ve actually been more physically active and capable now than I was before I got cancer. Four months after being told there was no evidence of cancer in my body, I began training for a half marathon in Anchorage, Alaska through the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training Program. I developed some unrelated problems in my knee during training, but I still completed the race in June 2007 and with two friends raised over $15,000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

I don’t think it was God who made me sick or who wanted me to be sick. But I do think he took this really ugly, disgusting thing that happened to me and used it for his glory. It became an opportunity for my family to be completely transformed. [bctt tweet=”God took my cancer and used it for his glory and it transformed my family. – Rachael Sutliff” quote=”But I do think he took this really ugly, disgusting thing that happened to me and used it for his glory. It became an opportunity for my family to be completely transformed.”]

Rachael Sutliff, Vineyard West Philly (Philadelphia, PA)