In 2019, when Stan was first diagnosed with ALS and given 2-4 years to live and this photo was taken, we were devastated. Neither of us handled the transition particularly well, being new followers of Yeshua struggling to die to our old selves while also trying to prepare ourselves for Stan’s very difficult bodily demise. Over the past four years we have learned to react to worldly things with more spiritually-mature, heaven-centered wisdom and less culturally-ingrained, emotional responses. In short, we’ve stopped panicking about test results and what-ifs.

I have known several people who have died from, or been caregivers to someone who has died from, ALS. Some of those people were deeply spiritual and faithful followers of Christ. Others were not. But they all lived a far more difficult ALS reality than Stan has–than I have. I do not know why. Only God in heaven knows why some suffer so greatly and go so quickly while others are given more time and far less physical suffering. I do not know why, but I am grateful.

These past four years have taught us so much about faith and surrender, trust and commitment. About what it means to be followers of Yeshua (Jesus), what it means to be a husband and a wife. About motherhood and fatherhood. About being a good brother and a good sister, a good son and a good daughter. About how to be a good friend and a faithful disciple. About work and sabbath. About humility and gratitude. About dreams and plans. About mission and obedience and waiting.

So. Much. Waiting. For things to get worse or for things to get better.

Some of the lessons have been brutally painful and others peacefully transformative and joyful.

According to doctors, Stan should be dead. At the very least, he should be in a wheelchair and eating and breathing through tubes. While his body is certainly limited, he is none of those things. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs, a lot of tests that told us the end was near only to discover that was not the case. And so we no longer go to doctors or ALS clinics or support groups.

We take each day as it comes and we don’t worry so much about what we’re supposed to be doing with our lives and our money and our time. We live by faith. We make plans, but our plans are always and easily subject to God’s plans.

Our world encourages us to be defined by our condition, to identify with our diagnosis. One of the most valuable lessons we have learned on this journey is that nothing could be further from the truth, and we are ready for whatever adventure God has for us next.