My favorite Father’s Day is coming up this year!
Amy was on a trip with her brother-in-law, on a flight to Seattle, and then on to Los Angeles, the two of them in search of salvation. And her ear was killing her. Both ears, in fact. She pressed on; the mission was too important: find the best place, the best doctors in the world, to help save her husband’s life. He was dying of leukemia, made worse by a weird chromosomal abnormality, and he needed a bone marrow transplant.
Pain or no pain, she was visiting top- tier cancer facilities in search of the right fit, all the while wondering why her ears were killing her.
Back in Tampa, the doctor tells her she has not one, but two burst eardrums. That’s pain. Most people would’ve stopped the mission asap. That is not in Amy Williams’ DNA. Stay calm. Carry on. With that mindset, she and brother-in-law Dave Shell had found the right fit at the City of Hope in California with rock star transplant doctor, Steve Forman, and the mission to save her husband’s life began. Her prayer: that her husband, Lance, would live to one day dance at his daughter, Olivia’s, wedding. Livvie wasn’t even a year old yet. That was a bold prayer.
In god’s mercy, to the great surprise of thousands of prayer warriors, Lance survived and thrived.
Fast forward almost exactly 25 years. It’s October 2025, and Amy is fighting excruciating back pain. Daily. For a woman who doesn’t complain, you know it’s bad, because she’s actually talking about it.
But, this is no time to be a victim; she has a wedding to plan, 500 miles away.
Remember that one-year-old, Olivia? She’s getting married. It’s a small affair in the afternoon, just family. And, pushing through the pain, looking like a million bucks, that long-ago prayer of Amy’s is answered. a catch in her throat, she silently, gratefully watches Lance and Olivia enjoy that father/daughter dance on the lawn after the wedding. Indeed, a singular, personal, fairytale moment.
But the pain is still grinding away at her back. After any number of chiropractic adjustments, physical therapy sessions, and, finally, medical testing, Amy is diagnosed with lung cancer. Early estimates give her six weeks to six months to live. devastating news for a family who had lived with the spectre of death for a quarter of a century, who had just lost their home to the flooding of Helene, who were living out of a suitcase with beloved friends, the Sullivans, in their South Tampa home.
But, this is a story of hope, of blessing, of perseverance with the sovereign hand of god pulling each string, and the legion of Tampa friends, and a few strangers, pouring out their practical love in countless ways: meals, laundry, books, flowers, errands, prayers. true community; truly the hands and feet of Christ.
When Lance was so sick, it was that chromosomal abnormality that ended up saving his life: that “Philadelphia chromosome,” the target of a brand new drug. And, all these years later, it is a chromosomal abnormality that is giving Amy remarkable progress.
Because of that DNA quirk, there is a special targeted therapy bringing thousands of people, Amy included, unexpected relief. The cancer is incurable, but it is still there; the medicine is so advanced that her X-rays and PET scans show not a trace of the tumors that once ravaged her body. She grocery shops, cooks, and helps hold down our real estate business. Not without side effects, but 180 degrees from six months ago!
What more fragrant gift could there be on this Father’s Day? Relief for my wife from a certain death sentence, relief for our children, Palmer and Olivia, for their mother, hope for an uncertain but promising future. Grace to put one foot in front of the other.
