I wasn’t born in Texas, but I got here as fast as I could. In our case, that was two days. Friday came last week and we still did not have insurance approval, but we decided to step out on faith and head to Houston anyway. After two long days in the car with the girls and Christi’s mom, Jean, we made it late Monday night. Good thing, too. The insurance was finally approved on Monday and somewhere in Louisiana I finally got an appointment for Tuesday morning.
The initial appointment went well considering I had to have another bone marrow biopsy. We first met with the business office to make sure our insurance would cover the treatment. After that came blood tests, a chest x-ray, and the dreaded biopsy. It actually wasn’t too bad, although I still wouldn’t do it for fun.
We meet with the hematologist this afternoon. I wouldn’t be too surprised if he looked at my biopsy slides and said, “What cancer?” That’s how big our God is. We still believe He will cure me. He has moved in obvious ways already during this four-month long journey. He won’t stop now.
Saturday morning, the day before we left, was picture-perfect. It was sunny but slightly cool with a comforting breeze. We decided to take a walk with the girls. Christi stopped by and picked up Alex, our former dog that we gave away to a neighbor a few months ago. We decided to find him a new home since taking care of him was getting to be too much. Christi tries to go see him every now and then. Suddenly, it was the “old” us. I felt great, no symptoms of cancer, and was pushing Abrie in the stroller. She was content, happily studying her surroundings. Emmy was skipping along while Christi had Alex by his leash while he repeatedly marked his territory.
“So this is what might have been if I hadn’t got sick,” I thought. I enjoyed the moment, watching Christi, Emmy, and Alex the Rascal walk in front of me. I probably would have worked in the yard, getting our place ready for winter, and then watched some college football. Christi and I might even have had a date that evening. We would have gotten up the next morning for church, scrambled around to get the girls ready so we wouldn’t be too late, and then probably headed to her parent’s house for dinner after the service. Instead, we would wake up the next morning and drive halfway across the country for a chance to save my life.
But, would that alternative present be better than the current reality? Who am I to think that my plans are better than what God has in store for us? I would give up this disease in a second, but I cannot deny the good that has come from it. The Lord’s name has been glorified. Lives have been touched and changed forever. None of this is from anything I have done or could have done if “what might have been” actually was. And just think of the testimony my family will have when He heals me.
As I’ve written before, God gave us Jeremiah 29:11 as our “life verse.”
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
His plans haven’t turned out the way we would have chosen. The future he has for us, however, will be better than anything we could have imagined.
I am acquainted with Heather Kates and Wilma Browning. I am so touched by your story and your faith. Just wanted you to know that I’m praying for you.
Thank you very much for the prayers and encouragement!
Sir, Your story and faith is an inspiration. I am sure your rock steady faith will be rewarded while you are in Texas! We are praying for you and look forward to hearing more of your story in person when this is all over.
Martin Schafer
Thanks, Martin. I look forward to telling it to the world. Hope you and your family are well.