Parenting isn’t easy, and it doesn’t get easier when those children become adults. Walking the line of expressing your concern while still allowing them to be adults and make their own decisions is tricky.

Recently in working with some of the families I see through my job, I’ve come to realize something. Most of what we think about as “life” is fantasy.

About 9 or 10 years ago, I wrote and self-published a book. It’s a devotional book originally intended for people battling depression. The book is entitled Masks: Devotions of the Hope for the Downcast.

The last few years (since COVID) many have been wanting life to get back to normal. Of course, we’ve also heard some say this IS the new normal. I remember, years ago, reading that normal is just a setting on your dryer.

A couple of years ago I started dabbling with some whittling/woodcarving. Just small stuff, usually 6 inches or less tall. I’ve carved a number of things: gnomes, Santas, an owl, bear, and others.

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.

You come back from grocery shopping and prepare to make the salad you’ve been craving. The greens are torn and tossed. Some shredded carrots added for color, and now for that bit of red onion

This devotion came from a series I started a few years ago which I tentatively called “Grace from the Produce Aisle.” I never finished that project because… life. Maybe posting some here will help me get back into writing more of those devotions.

This last week was harder than it had to be. I found myself waiting and waiting to hear from my doctor with the results of the PET scan that would reveal is I needed further treatment for my cancers.

This week I received the pathology report following my surgery.

Prior to my surgery, a lot of my attention was focused on making sure things were set for my wife if surgery didn’t go well. We talked about “what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

Yesterday, a week post-surgery and five days since I came home, was a day of a lot of firsts.

It’s a little over 24 hours post-surgery. I’ve felt well enough since waking to give the nurses a hard time.

It’s been four and a half months since the possibility of me having cancer was first raised. In that time, I’ve had an MRI, 3 CT scans, a biopsy, a couple of EKGs, and an assortment of lab tests.

From the time I was informed I had cancer, I’ve had an inexplicable peace as events have unfolded. I’ve never freaked out or had to deal with anxiety. This doesn’t make sense to a lot of people, and some of them have told me as much.

Warning: If you are squeamish about discussion of internal body parts and anatomy, you may want to skip this post.

As I write this, I am two and a half weeks away from major surgery. After several CT scans, a bone scan, and consultation with my urologist, it was decided surgery was the best path for addressing my cancer.

Since I received a cancer diagnosis several weeks ago, I’ve had lots of people tell me they will be praying for me. That’s great! I truly appreciate

My journey with, and hopefully through, cancer started on November 10 when lab results showing my prostate specific antigen (PSA) was slightly elevated. This was followed by