Hello. Every time I write a post, I wonder if it will be my last one. Writing and putting my thoughts together have become much harder the last few months. This post alone took me months to write. But as always, I leave everything in God’s hands.

My Journey with Cancer, Parkinson’s, Myasthenia Gravis, Gastroparesis, Long Haulers COVID, and Now the Beginning of Dementia.

Sometimes I sit back and wonder how one person can experience so many different medical battles in a lifetime.

Cancer, Parkinson’s. Myasthenia Gravis. Gastroparesis. Long Haulers COVID. And now, the beginning of another chapter I never imagined having to write: Dementia.

Six diagnoses. Six different challenges. Countless doctor’s appointments, hospitalizations, treatments, medications, sleepless nights, unanswered questions, and moments when my body has reminded me that I’m not in control of nearly as much as I once thought.

This isn’t a story I’m sharing because I want sympathy. It’s not about seeking attention or having people feel sorry for me.

It’s about sharing my journey. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the heartbreaking, and everything in between.

It’s about being honest about what life looks like when you live with multiple chronic and progressive health conditions.

And most importantly, it’s about sharing what Jesus has meant to me throughout this journey.

Cancer: The Battle That Started It All:

In 2003, I heard two words that would forever change my life: You have cancer.

It was one of my first major medical battles and an early reminder of just how fragile life can be. Cancer brought uncertainty, fear, and questions about the future, but it also strengthened my appreciation for every day I’m given.

Little did I know that cancer would be followed by several more medical battles over the years.

Through it all, I’ve continued to learn that my circumstances may change, but God’s faithfulness never does.

Cancer may have been one of my battles, but it never became my identity. Jesus remained my identity, my hope, and my strength.

PARKINSON’S: THE BATTLE THAT KEEPS ON STEALING:

My Parkinson’s diagnosis came in 2007.

I never imagined that a neurological disease would become such a significant part of my life. Parkinson’s has affected my physical abilities, mobility, energy, and, perhaps most frustratingly, my ability to communicate.

My voice doesn’t always cooperate. Sometimes I know exactly what I want to say, but getting the words out is an entirely different challenge.

For someone who loves writing, encouraging people, sharing the Gospel, and communicating with others, losing some of that ability has been particularly difficult.

I’ve had to find different ways to express myself and share what God puts on my heart.

But here’s something I’ve learned:

Parkinson’s may affect my voice, but it cannot silence my faith.

I still have something to say. I still have a testimony to share. And I still have a reason to encourage others.

MYASTHENIA GRAVIS: WHEN YOUR OWN BODY BECOMES A BATTLEFIELD

In 2009, another diagnosis entered my life: Myasthenia Gravis.

Living with MG means dealing with a neuromuscular autoimmune disease that causes muscle weakness and can affect everyday activities in ways most people never understand.

Some days, even the simplest things require tremendous effort.

There are days when my body doesn’t have the strength to do what my mind wants it to do. There are moments when fatigue takes over and I have to accept that I simply cannot do everything I want.

One of the hardest parts of living with MG is its unpredictability.

You can have plans, dreams, and things you want to accomplish, only to have your body remind you that today isn’t going to go according to plan.

It’s a humbling experience.

But I’ve learned that my worth isn’t determined by how much I accomplish in a day.

God doesn’t love me more on my productive days or less on my difficult ones.

His grace is sufficient, even when my strength isn’t.

GASTROPARESIS: WHEN SOMETHING SO SIMPLE BECOMES A DAILY BATTLE

In 2015, Gastroparesis became another part of my medical journey.

Something most people never think twice about, eating, became another challenge.

Gastroparesis affects the stomach’s ability to empty properly. It can make nutrition, eating, and digestion incredibly difficult.

It’s hard to explain what it’s like when something as fundamental as eating becomes a daily medical challenge.

There are frustrations, discomfort, limitations, and days when you simply wish your body would cooperate.

I have dealt with a gastric stimulator, a feeding tube and 70% of my stomach being removed.

Dealing with gastroparesis is another reminder that so many things we take for granted are actually blessings.

I’ve learned to appreciate things differently, celebrate small victories, and recognize that sometimes getting through an ordinary day is anything but ordinary.

LONG HAULERS COVID: ANOTHER UNEXPECTED CHAPTER

In 2021, Long Haulers COVID added another layer to an already complicated medical journey.

After everything my body had experienced, I found myself navigating the lingering effects of another illness.

The fatigue, physical challenges, and uncertainty added to an already difficult situation.

Sometimes it feels like just when I begin adjusting to one medical challenge, another one comes along.

I would love to tell you that I’ve gotten used to it.

But the truth is, you never completely get used to having your health turned upside down.

You learn to adjust. You learn to adapt. You learn to appreciate the good days.

And you learn that tomorrow is never guaranteed.

DEMENTIA: A NEW CHAPTER AND A DIFFERENT KIND OF FEAR

And now, there’s Dementia.

This is perhaps one of the most difficult chapters for me to write about.

It’s one thing to experience physical limitations. It’s another thing to begin facing questions about your memory, your thinking, and what the future might hold.

Dementia brings a different kind of uncertainty.

There are questions I don’t have answers to. There are things about the future that I would rather not think about.

I love remembering. I love writing. I love creating songs, sharing stories, encouraging people, and reflecting on what God has done throughout my life.

Those pleasures in life are becoming more difficult these days. This is a difficult season to process.

But I’m learning something important.

My identity has never been dependent on my memory, my physical abilities, my voice, or my medical circumstances.

My identity has always been found in Jesus Christ.

Even when my body struggles, even when my voice is weak, and even when my memory isn’t what it once was, I am still a child of God.

My value hasn’t changed.

My purpose hasn’t disappeared.

And my Savior hasn’t gone anywhere.

I don’t know what this chapter will look like, but I know who will walk through it with me.

THE PART OF MY JOURNEY PEOPLE DON’T ALWAYS SEE

Behind these six diagnoses is a human being.

A child of God’s. A husband. A son. A friend. Someone who still has dreams, hopes, passions, and a desire to make a difference.

There are days when the fatigue is overwhelming.

There are nights when sleep is difficult to find.

There are moments when pain, weakness, and frustration take their toll.

There are things I want to do but cannot.

There are meetings I have to miss, commitments I have to step away from, and days when I have to remind myself that resting isn’t quitting.

Sometimes I miss the person I used to be physically.

I miss the freedom of being able to do things without calculating how much energy they will require.

I miss having a voice that cooperates.

I miss the days when my body didn’t dictate so many of my decisions.

And yes, sometimes I get discouraged.

I’m sharing that because I believe Christians need to understand something:

Having faith doesn’t mean you never struggle. Having faith means you know where to turn when you do.

I don’t believe we have to pretend everything is wonderful when we’re hurting.

Jesus never asked us to pretend.

He invites us to bring our burdens, our fears, our disappointments, and our brokenness to Him.

And that’s what I continue to do.

MY FAITH IS BIGGER THAN MY DIAGNOSES

Over the years, I’ve experienced some incredibly difficult medical situations.

I’ve faced moments when doctors weren’t sure I would survive. I’ve experienced hospitalizations, intensive care, treatments, and medical circumstances that I never imagined would become part of my testimony.

I’ve also experienced what I can only describe as the incredible grace and mercy of God.

In 2019, after years of serious illness and moments when my life was hanging in the balance, I experienced a remarkable miracle after attending a prayer gathering.

A miracle that hasn’t disappeared because God is mad at me or my lack of faith.

I am still walking in my miracle.

I have countless testimonies of God’s faithfulness, and I carry those experiences with me.

But I’ve also learned that faith isn’t a guarantee that we will never get sick, never suffer, or never experience another difficult diagnosis.

Faith is trusting Jesus even when the healing hasn’t come or the healing isn’t complete healing.

I believe the majority of the time, our healing is progressive. That is a post for another post.

Faith is believing when the answers don’t make sense.

Faith is finding peace when the circumstances haven’t changed.

Faith is knowing that even in the darkest valley, we are never walking alone.

One of my favorite passages is 2 Corinthians 12:9:

“My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”

I’ve come to understand that Scripture in ways I never could have imagined.

I used to think strength meant being able to do more, accomplish more, and push through every obstacle.

Today, I understand that sometimes strength means getting out of bed when everything hurts.

Sometimes strength means asking for help.

Sometimes strength means resting.

Sometimes strength means crying out to Jesus and admitting that you don’t have anything left to give.

And sometimes strength simply means getting through another day.

TO MY WIFE, FAMILY, FRIENDS, AND EVERYONE WHO PRAYS

I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the people who have walked alongside me.

Especially my bride, Laura.

For more than two decades, she has walked through this medical journey with me. The appointments, treatments, surgeries, hospitalizations, uncertainty, and countless difficult days.

She has been there through so much.

People sometimes talk about what it means to love someone through sickness and health. Laura has lived that commitment in ways that words cannot adequately describe.

I am also grateful for family, friends, and everyone who made the choice to stick around and pray for us, encourage us, check in on us and reminded us that we’re not alone.

Your prayers matter.

Your encouragement matters.

And sometimes, just knowing someone is thinking about you makes a difficult day a little easier.

I’M NOT FINISHED LIVING

So, where do I go from here?

Honestly, I don’t know exactly what tomorrow will bring.

I cannot promise that my health will improve. I cannot promise that I won’t face more challenges. I cannot predict what these diagnoses will mean for my future.

But I can make a decision about today.

I can continue loving my wife.

I can continue encouraging people.

I can continue sharing my faith.

I can continue writing, creating, praying, and looking for opportunities to make a difference.

I can continue living a life of significance, even if that life looks very different from what I once imagined.

I have spent much of my life encouraging people to keep fighting, keep believing, and keep overcoming.

Today, I’m reminding myself of that same message.

And I want people to understand something:

I’m not an overcomer because I’ve defeated every medical condition.

I’m an overcomer because these conditions haven’t taken away my hope, my faith, my love for Jesus, or my desire to keep living.

My health issues are part of my story.

They are NOT my identity.

My identity is found in Jesus.

I am a child of God.

I am loved.

I am still here.

And I still have a purpose.

ONE FINAL THOUGHT

If you’re reading this and you’re fighting a battle of your own, whether it’s cancer, Parkinson’s, dementia, an autoimmune disease, chronic illness, depression, or something nobody else can see, please hear me.

You are not your diagnosis.

You are not your limitations.

You are not your worst day.

You are not forgotten.

You are not alone.

Give yourself permission to have difficult days. Give yourself permission to rest. Give yourself permission to ask for help.

And never believe that your life has lost its significance simply because your circumstances have changed.

I don’t know how many chapters remain in my story.

But I know who holds the pages.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring.

But I know who holds tomorrow.

And I don’t know what the future of my health looks like.

But I know that Jesus will be with me every step of the way.

Six medical battles. Countless challenges. One Savior. One unwavering faith.

I’m not giving up.

I’m not throwing in the towel.

I’m not finished living.

I’m still fighting. I’m still believing. I’m still trusting Jesus.

And by His grace…

I’M STILL AN OVERCOMER!

KEEP FIGHTING. KEEP BELIEVING. KEEP OVERCOMING.

To God be the glory. ~OC