ON MISSIONARIES: A PERSONAL VIEW (17)

After Joice and I went back to PNG for the revision of the West Kewa NT, its dedication, and the translation and dedication of the East Kewa NT in 2005, for the next several years we lived in our house in Duncanville, a suburb southwest of Dallas.

In 2008 I was diagnosed with prostate cancer, and we were faced with several options about my treatment. One was to “wait and see,” because it was reported as a slow and non-aggressive form, so we decided on that course. It is now 2025 and, by God’s will and grace, I am still “waiting and seeing,” and living with prostate cancer. Of course, we don’t know what God has in store for us, but God has been gracious as I have waited, and I have not needed additional therapy except for checkups and a daily pill.

In 2013 Joice was diagnosed with cancer, a rare form. It was a shock to me, but less so to her. After she had discovered the growth on her pituitary gland area and went to a specialist, we were assured that in such cases the cancer was generally “benign.” That was my hope and expectation, but Joice felt the cancer was malignant, and a biopsy confirmed it.

A surgeon at our local hospital near Dallas removed the tumor in an intricate and tricky operation. There are many nerves in that area of the head and extreme care by an experienced surgeon was necessary to avoid peripheral damage.

The surgery was successful, but radiation would be necessary to prevent any spreading of the cancer. We consulted a specialist, who advised us that the most successful outcome for this kind of cancer could take place if she had proton radiation. According to an Internet site, “proton radiation therapy is a type of cancer treatment that uses high-energy protons to damage and destroy cancer cells. It is a more precise form of radiation therapy than traditional X-ray therapy, which can damage healthy tissues as it passes through the body to reach the tumor.”

At the time, such therapy was only available in California and at the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, Texas. Our son-in-law, Mike, who is a medical doctor, contacted the Center, but our insurance was not available for this kind of treatment. Mike did not give up. He persisted for a month until he was able to have Joice granted a “once only” future insurance payment so that we could go to Houston.

We lived in an apartment in Houston for 6 ½ weeks, just a mile or so from the proton center. Joice had a special mask fitted for her face and she was fastened to a board each time the daily treatment took place. In addition, she had chemo treatments at the main hospital once each week. Other procedures were also regular: MRIs, blood work, and so on, as well as weekly consultations with the doctor and his assistants. 

Joice kept a diary of her treatments, which following the proton radiation, required regular visits to Houston over the next several years.

At the time we were not living in Waco. However, we moved from Duncanville to Waco in 2014 at the invitation of our daughter and son-in-law, who found a place for us. After the cancer was diagnosed and the treatment in Houston was arranged, they had suggested that we live closer to them.

In one way, it was tough to move. All our missionary colleagues lived in the Dallas area, and we had worked at our Dallas center since we left Australia in 1994. We had hundreds of friends in that area but knew no one except our family in Waco. We did know a little about Waco because Karol attended Baylor and graduated in 1987, with a degree in Education and minors in Spanish, math and English.

Our family did not want us to move to Waco and keep wishing that we were in Dallas, near our friends and colleagues. So we prayed that God would give us special friends and a church in Waco. God has done both.

There are around 400 churches in Waco, but we visited only two and the second one, DaySpring Baptist, is where we stayed. It is relatively small (about 300 members) and its byline, “Sacred and Simple,” appealed to us. It was also only about 3 minutes from where we lived. Joice invited the pastor to our house because she wanted us to meet him, and she had some questions to ask. One of her first was, “How long are you going to stay here. I want a pastor that buries me.” I was a bit (but only a bit) surprised at her directness, but the pastor was up to the challenge. He assured us that he had no intention of moving.

I enrolled in a men’s Bible study that had just started, and I have attended it ever since. Almost immediately, Joice found a wonderful friend.

Things were developing in Waco more quickly than we could have imagined.

Karl Franklin