It was just a year ago that the call from the doctor came in explaining that I had a tumor growing on my brain and surgery was inevitable. Thankfully, the tumor was benign, but it was growing at a life-threatening rate and causing seizures. My champion of a wife, our kids, and immediate family quickly came together to process the information and prepare for the incredible uphill climb that 2023 would bring. We learned of this in mid-December 2022, and I underwent surgery on January 4, 2023. During the weeks leading up to the surgery, I found that we had several things to mentally process and work through, the most unnerving of which was facing the idea that Christmas of 2022 might be my last Christmas with my family.

However, we consciously chose to take one day at a time and look for any moments of hope and joy we could find. This perspective changed everything. There were still many tears, questions to be answered, and frightening moments that tested our faith, but we chose as a family to believe for the best and trust the Creator of our lives for what the future would hold. We chose life instead of death.

In writing this article for you, I want to show that, in the midst of some of life’s most challenging moments, there are also the most amazing views. However, this will require you to take your eyes off the fearful and painful situation long enough to witness those beautiful moments. 

Here are some things I witnessed in 2023 that took my breath away:

• Witnessing my wife, Melissa, show strength and a love for me that exceeded expectations. She was there to cheer me on in my most brutal days of sickness and help shift my perspective. The uncertainty of the future was a genuine thing for both of us, and yet it helped us understand that life is uncertain, with or without a brain tumor, so we better live it to its fullest!

• Watching my children step up to support me and their mother was incredible. I always knew what we taught our kids about value and sacrifice when they were younger. But there is something special about seeing it lived out with my own eyes. Both of our sons provided amazing support, and it gave me confidence that if something ever happened to me, they have all the components necessary to lead through adversity, be there for their mother, and continue with their own lives. That is an enormously proud dad moment.

• Receiving the support from family, friends, colleagues, church, and the community was overwhelming. We have never really been in a place where we had needs like this. Receiving love and care from so many was humbling, but also greatly appreciated and treasured.

• Understanding that I was ready for whatever came my way was comforting. While we faced many struggles as a family, and my body was feeling the effects of the tumor and resulting medication, the actual battle was happening in my mind and heart. I remember sitting at the table the night before surgery to write goodbye letters to my family in case January 4th was my last day to see them. Talk about challenging moments! Then, after the surgery, my left side failed to respond, and there was uncertainty about what would physically reconnect. Would I ever walk again? Would I be able to continue serving our city and region in the capacity of city council? Would I be able to preach again and share messages of hope? Was this my new normal? So many questions were swirling around my mind. As the questions came, the process peeled back my personal layers of life, and I could see the foundational pieces of what make up this person called Kristopher. The takeaway was that I truly was prepared to face the illness and embrace whatever came next. The faith, hope, joy, and peace that live at my life’s base were strong and in place. They were like roots for a tree that holds it in place while the storms rage. 

Now, we are at the end of 2023. After many doctor appointments, physical therapy sessions, prayers, and tearful yet joyful conversations, our family is still very much intact and serving our community.

I still walk slower than usual and cannot run as the left side of my body still requires some healing. However, this year did not steal anything from me. We have grown closer as a family. I have seen the relentless care of a community of friends and family, and I have more hope and understanding today than I did a year ago. What harm the tumor could have brought to me and my family was diminished and instead, gave me a new perspective. It allowed me to see views and beautiful moments that would have gone unseen. A garden of gratefulness grew through every step taken. 

The fear for me is not whether I will die today, but whether I will choose to embrace each day and truly live!