As I slowly unraveled the most recent row of crocheting from the afghan I was making, I thought of the unraveling of our plans for the future.

We had made lists of the things we would need to accomplish before launching to Thailand. We had laid out a timeline and made flight reservations. Just the week before, we had spent time sorting through the things we had brought with us, deciding which would go with us and which would remain in storage. Now everything was unraveling.

I had confidently reassured the doctor who did my physical that I had twice had that swollen lymph node evaluated by a surgeon and had been assured that there was nothing to be concerned about. But he recommended a biopsy, and I agreed, thinking it was just another hurdle to get over before we could launch. But now, the reality of the situation was beginning to come home to me. The pathology report came back with the C word—cancer.

Eleven years ago, I had had my first diagnosis of cancer. The common wisdom was that after five years you were considered cured. So what was this? Then my thoughts cleared. God had called us to this work. He had opened every door along the way. He had carried us through training and grown us through the crucible. Had we not learned that He is in control? That we can entrust each day to Him? His word tells us that He “knit us together” in our mother’s womb (Ps. 139:13). We may have caused a few dropped stitches along the way by trying to take over the knitting along the way as He grew our lives, but in His time and way, He will still bring out of it a beautiful pattern. “Therefore we do not lose heart . . .” (2 Cor. 2:13).

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