We grabbed the overhead bar and held on as the University of
Georgia bus lurched from the curb to carry us to our next destination. We were there
for UGA orientation our son’s freshman year.
Jerry elbowed me in the side and pointed to a man up ahead.
“Is that who I think it is?”
I studied the profile. “Maybe.”
When we exited at our next stop, sure enough, the man Jerry
pointed to turned out to have the same face as one we’d often seen in a tiny
newspaper photo.
Among the parents of almost 5,000 incoming freshmen, we ran into a man whose writing
we’d long admired, who also had a daughter entering UGA―syndicated columnist
and southern writer, Darrell Huckaby.
We introduced ourselves, and I took a picture with Huckaby and
his wife, which I used for a piece in my just started blog. We also had a moment of bonding over the fact my husband played football for
the University of Georgia (more here at One Old Dawg), and Huckaby is one of the biggest UGA football fans
ever.
Amidst the high hopes we all had for our children that
bright summer morning, none of us could have imagined what lay ahead a short
time later.
In December of that year, my husband would be diagnosed with
prostate cancer, and face months of out of state treatment.
Darrell Huckaby would also be diagnosed with prostate cancer
just a few months after my husband in the spring of the next year. Although my
husband’s cancer hit the top of the scale in terms of aggressiveness, it
appeared to be contained. Doctor’s didn’t give Darrell that same outlook. In
fact, doctor after doctor, offered him only a dire prognosis.
After exhausting
options locally, he felt led to go to M.D. Anderson, where through
innovative treatment, he found hope and eventually regained stability in his health.
Our paths continued to intersect with Huckaby. My husband
invited him to speak at our church one Sunday morning. And Huckaby wrote a wonderful article about it. I ran into him while holding a book signing in a
neighboring town where he was also signing books.
Huckaby has since written a memoir, entitled, Yea Though I Walk, chronicling his fight against prostate cancer
and the work God did in his heart through it. He sent us a copy, and my husband latched on
to it. He deliberately didn’t share what he read with me, so as not to spoil my
reading experience. It took a while to wrestle the book from his hands, but
when I did and came to page 209, I was honored and surprised to find us mentioned.
All this and more from a seemingly random meeting.
I am celebrating my fifteenth year as a cancer survivor this year. I am most encouraged through the testimonies of those
who have persevered in the face of overwhelming odds. Huckaby’s story is one
that gives me hope to keep on no matter what I face.
Continuing in his role as a lifelong educator, today Darrell Huckaby is leading educational tours around the world―a life far from the one
predicted for him before he went to M.D. Anderson. I’m hoping we get to go with
him sometime.
If you have sagging hope, read Yea Though I Walk. You will laugh and you
will cry, but most of all you will be encouraged. If you've already read it, give a copy to someone else who may need a boost.
"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit" (Romans 15:13).