(Some already know this news — I’m simply mentioning it here for those who aren’t aware but whose prayers we would gladly welcome.)
Over the past weeks, Anna (my wife) has been having various appointments and tests which culminated late last week in a confirmed diagnosis of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. That sounds like a dramatic way to begin a Waiting Country piece — my apologies for that — but we wanted to share the news with friends here.
The next step is to meet with the haematology team (8th March) and for them to arrange more tests and then come up with an appropriate treatment pathway. There’s a lot that is still uncertain but we do know that Hodgkin’s mostly responds very favourably to treatment. Our reaction to being given the diagnosis was overwhelming relief - which might sound odd but there were other, more frightening, alternatives in the mix.
We’re both so thankful to God for how Anna discovered there was an issue needing to be looked at (providence does not know the meaning of the word random) and for the way in which the healthcare professionals have handled the whole thing. They’ve all been so measured and caring and have treated us with real compassion and true dignity. And for our family and friends, brothers and sisters, we have ceaseless gratitude. Thank you, Lord.
On the two Sundays following biopsies being taken and prior to the diagnosis being given we heard sermons that helped us lift our eyes to the Lord. We were reminded from Psalm 121 that, as we look at mountain ranges of uncertainty and potential danger,
[Our] help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD watches over you—
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The LORD will keep you from all harm —
he will watch over your life;
the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.
Could we need or find greater assurance?
And yet we were given it. The following Sunday morning we were encouraged to put ourselves into the shoes of the disciples as the Lord Jesus sent them out, apparently alone, into a storm (Matthew 14). But he sent them into the struggle only so they might know with certainty who he really is, to see his matchless glory and to experience the glory that is his love — “love unbounded, wonderful, deep and strong,” the love of the One who, like a shepherd, guards his children and in his arms carries them all day long.1
At the beginning of last week we were told the results appointment was being brought forward (a sure sign the faint prospect of ‘nothing to worry about’ was no longer a possibility). A couple of days before that we had taken a drive to the coast for Anna to take some photos for her upcoming 2025 Yorkshire calendar. In the beautiful fishing village of Staithes she photographed a boat in the harbour with the village behind. It was only later, reviewing her photos, that she noticed the boat had a name. It was called Grace.
We don’t know the name of the boat the disciples sailed in but we do know that the boat of our lives, the boat in which all disciples ancient and modern journey into any permitted storm, has Grace indelibly written across its bow and worked through its every fibre. It is “the grace in which we now stand,”2 the grace that fills every breath taken and every day given.
In anticipation, thank you so much for your prayers. It means more than we can say.
A boat called 'Grace'
There was a boat called 'grace'
in the harbour that day
when work wasn't calling
but the coast insisted
we see its lines and share
its open winds and waves,
its ceaseless movement and
caresses. The steep hill
took our breath away but
wasn’t alone in so
doing; paused between the
partly known and mostly
feared, it was another
boat called Grace, moored on high,
that anchored us in peace.
My times are in Thy hand:
my God, I wish them there;
my life, my friends, my soul I leave
entirely to Thy care.
My times are in Thy hand,
whatever they may be,
pleasing or painful, dark or bright,
as best may seem to Thee.
My times are in Thy hand:
why should I doubt or fear?
A Father's hand will never cause
His child a needless tear.
My times are in Thy hand,
Jesus, the crucified;
those hands my cruel sins had pierced
are now my guard and guide.
My times are in Thy hand:
I'll always trust in Thee;
and, after death, at Thy right hand
I shall for ever be.
(William Freeman Lloyd, 1791-1853)
Frances Jane Van Alstyne, Praise Him, Praise him, Jesus our Blessed Redeemer
Romans 5:2
Hi Richard, thank you for sharing about Anna - Wendy and myself will be remembering you both in prayer. - warmly Trevor
Thank you for sharing the news, Richard. The boat looks small 'but He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' 2 Corinthians 12. Holding you both before the Lord in prayer. Much love from Geoff and Karen xx