We live in a world where countless roads claim to lead to success—express lanes to happiness, toll-free routes to purpose, and flashy detours promising fulfillment in the Eternal Now. And many folks, good-hearted and well-meaning, are sprinting full speed ahead.
But here’s the kicker: what if the road you’re on is the wrong one?
For decades, I’ve stood in uniform beside the flag-draped coffins of fellow servicemen. I’ve stood at the front of church sanctuaries to bless weddings full of joy and eulogize lives full of sorrow. I’ve held hands with the grieving, prayed over the broken, and offered words when there were no words.
But nothing—absolutely nothing—prepared me for this.
On January 3, 2024, my wife, Sherrie, and I were pulled into a world no one ever wants to enter: the world of brain cancer. The diagnosis was brutal and blunt—Stage Four Glioblastoma.
