Dear Dad,

Forty-eight hours ago you received news that permanently changed the outlook of our family. While we knew that a day like this would eventually come in some shape or form for each one of us (after all, "He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust" -Ps. 103:14) it doesn't make it any easier to face the reality of a degenerative disease such as MSA. So many mixed emotions - first relief to have a name to these symptoms that have ailed you, then shock and sorrow to read what this condition really means, followed by faith that God will see us through, gratitude for the time we have been given ... and then all the way back around again.

That first day I kept thinking: We all have a terminal disease. We all have an end date. For all you or I know, mine or that of someone else we love could arrive first. So how does that frame our mindset now that the doctor's words are spoken?

When life seems open-ended, we take our days for granted. We shouldn't, but we do. Now each new day before us is a gift. You are our gift. I want to remember that. I want you to remember that, too. No matter what happens, you are not our burden. I may not know all the hows and whens and whys, but when the time comes and you need us, we will be there and you need to remember that you are not our burden, but our privilege.

Just recently I was sharing with my kids something I had learned in my Esther Bible study. It had to do with the significance of the timeframe in which Haman cast lots to determine when to annihilate the Jews. He sent out his terrible edict to every corner of the kingdom the very next day, never realizing that word of their impending destruction would reach the Jews just as they were celebrating Passover. In the face of a sentence of death, God's people had no choice but to simultaneously remember His powerful deliverance in times past. God gave them hope when they absolutely needed it the most.

I told the kids about the time we had to delay our first trip to Haiti due to paperwork issues in Chile and Owen's unexpected hospitalization. After the emotions of so many months of waiting to meet Ian and Alec, I was heartbroken. Yet the very day of our originally-scheduled flight, I found an envelope on our front lawn in Santiago. Never before nor ever after did this happen again. But just when God knew I needed a reminder of His love and sovereignty, a letter with pictures of our baby boys in Haiti was waiting for me.

Yesterday I needed another reminder, and God did not fail to deliver. My first thoughts upon waking were of you, and wishing that Monday's news had been a bad dream. A short while later I did my daily check online for free Christian e-books. I do not think it was a coincidence that Tuesday's book was entitled "The Art of Caregiving." Nor that the author would remind readers of this truth:

I take seriously Psalm 118:24: "This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it." Why should we rejoice today? Because not one of us knows how long we are going to live. Today is the only day we know we have, so why not live joyfully?

He also shared this quote from Hellen Keller:

When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.

This quote reminded me of the other thought I had that first day: God will use this for some purpose in Dad's life and ministry to others. Your entire life has been dedicated to ministry and I doubt a single diagnosis will change that. What may change is the focus and place of that ministry, but I know God will continue to use your life and testimony for His glory. Perhaps He will even use you to minister to others who share the diagnosis of MSA but do not know where they are headed for eternity.

The temptation is to try to figure it all out now. The truth is that God will reveal it day by day. We have a journey in front of us but this is not the first we have taken as a family, is it? We can never complain that the "Christian" life has been boring! Thank you, Dad, for following the Lord and taking us places we never thought we'd see. Thank you for taking that first step of faith which made our subsequent ones in future years so much clearer. You took a young family to a place completely new to you, so that one day God would lead the next generation back "home" to continue serving Him there. You stepped into the unknown so that we could return to the "known." 

We took that trip with you then and we're ready to take this trip with you now. We all love you so much! I am so thankful God made you my Daddy.

All my love,

Stephanie