One year ago today, Hunter and I walked into the ER completely unaware that the life we were dreaming of was about to be flipped upside down.
We have grieved a lot of loss in a year. What I would give to allow Hunter just one more day of normal. One day of driving to work, seeing the faces around him clearly and saying exactly what he wants as quickly as he wants. A day of firing strikes from the mound or dominating in every card game he plays. A day of pure excitement because the numbers are coming together in his spreadsheet.
It’s easy to see loss, yet we are reminded daily of all we are gaining alongside the pain. A year ago, we thought we had our future all figured out. God was a part of it, but he was just that – a part. In the last year, God has demonstrated His presence, provision, and peace in ways we never would have experienced had our own plans for the “perfect life” continued. He went from being a part of our future to the author of our story. He is using our circumstances to shape us. He has proved faithful when we surrendered our plans. He has shown us the power of the Church and used those around us to be the hands and feet of Jesus despite our moments of doubt, anger, selfishness and disappointment.
We are far from perfect. There are days we still try to cling to our own idea of what we think our life should look like. There are moments when it’s hard to trust that God is working this for good. But then He swoops in and reminds us that He’s in all the details. He whispers, “I provide” in the meals brought to our doorstep. He utters, “You’re loved” in the cards of hope and blessing we receive in the mail. He says, “I care” when we look out the window and see a family member mowing our yard… again. He reminds me, “I create masterpieces” when I cradle my precious newborn niece and nephew. He insists, “I’m still working” in the warmth of Hunter’s familiar embrace or the sound of his laughter. I could spend hours describing all the beautiful details that remind me of God’s promises.
One year ago, we thought we had all that we needed. One year later, God reminds us that He is all we will ever need. The journey has only begun, and we are so thankful to be completely reliant on the only one who can make it good. We trust He is perfect when we are not. We remember this life is only a vapor, leading to a blissful eternity with a perfect Father. We praise Him, for He is good.

A reflection from Marci Hoffman, one year after her husband Hunter’s diagnosis of a rare brain cancer.
Used by permission.

A cancer journey is exhausting, emotional, and deeply spiritual. It has drawn me closer to Jesus—but not without my fair share of doubt.
I was so relieved a couple of weeks ago when we learned more about Doubting Thomas at church. Just hearing that doubt is a normal part of the faith journey was incredibly reassuring. It's something that’s crept in and been hard to process.
I’ve never doubted that God exists or if He’s present. I’ve never stopped praying or worshipping. But there’s been this lingering sense of uncertainty—questions like “Where are you?” or “I don’t understand.”
Still, I fought it by continuing to show up. I kept worshipping. I’ve always wanted to read through the Bible in a year, and last July, I finally started. What I’ve found is that God keeps finding me in the hard.
I’m not even sure how this fits, or who needs to hear it—but keep showing up.
That same Sunday, I was hit with the realization that I’d be having scans and likely stopping treatment during Easter week. Easter week. That timing gave me chills—it made me cry and smile at the same time. We were singing “Good Plans” when it hit me: even in my doubt about what the future holds, God sees good plans.
He keeps reassuring me, helping me face my fears, and holding me tight.

Written by Cheryl Caffee
 Shared with permission