The first time I found out I had cancer, the discovery was not as traumatic as you might expect. Perhaps that's because I was partially relieved to finally have some answers after months of "chasing rabbits", or maybe it was because I didn't fully understand what "Stage 4 Lymphoma" meant and how difficult the road before me would be.

On the evening of my 50th birthday, I climbed into the car for a visit to see my daughter. I'd like to tell you it was to watch her participate in a school event or to see her newly decorated first apartment. But it wasn't either of those. This trip was to visit her at the drug rehabilitation center where she was undergoing treatment. This was a difficult time for our family. The circumstances that led us to this point had strained our relationship significantly and I was deeply frustrated that I was not able to "fix" this situation. As I sat outside the facility, preparing to see her, I struggled to find the words to express what was happening in my heart. I prayed again, for the thousandth time, that God would touch her heart and restore our relationship. And while I could not find a peace in the darkness of the situation, I believe God enabled me to eventually find that peace by taking me through my own journey of suffering.