My Continuing Journey with Cancer—Via the Emmaus Road

 In a previous post, I wrote about what I had been through up to receiving a prostate cancer diagnosis and treatments so far.  I won’t retell the story, but you can follow this link to get up to speed on what has been happening.  

As of last October, after almost 30 months without any sign of cancer, my PSA went above zero.  It was a very slight increase, but I should have no PSA.  The doctor explained what was probably happening, and we set an appointment and bloodwork to be done.  

The short story is that my PSA has continued to rise.  The doctor ordered a PET scan, explaining that there is a protein (?) that clings to prostate cancer cells that can be made to show up when hit with X-rays, such as in a scan.  I am still awaiting the results when we will learn where the cancer might be hiding, which will determine the best medical course of action.

So, how am  I handling all this?  

Glad you asked! 

In Luke 24, two disciples—maybe two men, or maybe a man and a woman, Biblical scholars debate—were walking to the town of  Emmaus after Jesus’ resurrection when a stranger came alongside them and joined them on the road.  The stranger asked them many questions about what they were discussing.  The travelers  marveled that this stranger did not seem to know what had happened in Jerusalem in the previous few days, and they began to tell the story of  Jesus’ crucifixion and that His disciples were telling everyone that Jesus had risen from the dead.  

Then the “stranger” told them of all the prophecies of these events from the Old Testament, much to the travelers’ astonishment.  

Since the day was ending, the travelers invited this stranger to join them for a meal and a place to spend the night. 

While eating dinner, Jesus revealed Himself to those at the table.  

Then He simply disappeared. Dumbfounded, the travelers realized that they should have known Jesus all along, that their “hearts were burning within us” (Luke 24;32). 

Life is like that.  We go through it, often depending on (we think…) ourselves, when Jesus was right there next to us,  just like on the Emmaus Road. and we were just too self-absorbed to notice.  We chalk up all those unexplained things that happen to “coincidence” and not to Jesus' presence.  It never seems to occur to us until it is pointed out. 

In  October 2025, just after I attended the weekend spiritual retreat I wrote about in  my November 25, 2025 post “On Final Approach to Lap 72”,  I learned that even the slight increase in my PSA was significant.  I took the news calmly, not feeling even a little fear. 

Considering the highly unlikely chain of events leading up to my participation in the retreat, I can only conclude that God was at work, using the retreat to gift me with the blessings I needed to be at peace while dealing with the otherwise scary news that my cancer was raising its ugly head again.  

That is the point, I think, of an “Emmaus Retreat”,  to see that Jesus is walking with you whether  you know it or not.  You learn from other men’s stories how Jesus was working in their lives, and how they only saw it in retrospect. 

There is much, much more that happens at an Emmaus Retreat, but it is a weekend that is best experienced without prior expectations. 

I was so blessed that I volunteered to be “on team” for the  Spring retreat, which took place in  April 2026.  Even though I knew what to expect, watching the new retreatants experience what I did was amazing!  A gift I did not foresee at all.  

You see, when I was working, I ran training classes for new employees and  sometimes, large groups of experienced employees. I was familiar with all the logistics and planning  that goes into such activities, but I could not have imagined –dare I say it?—the love that goes into an Emmaus retreat.  It is why now can call a group of men I never knew before those weekends, “brothers”. We share a spiritual bond. 

It is also why, when I ask for their prayers and support , I am almost overwhelmed by the response.  I have no doubt that when my brothers say, “You are in our prayers”, that they will kneel before God and ask Him for grace and healing for me. I will do the same for them.  

I cannot describe how that feels.  I have been both facing cancer and experiencing AFIB for a week now as I write this.  I am not overwhelmed, nor am I afraid.  Just knowing that my brothers, and sometimes even their families, are praying for me is more powerful than you imagine!  

So, in the upcoming weeks I am facing decisions about what cancer treatments are next, and a cardio procedure to stop the AFIB in which the doctors will sedate me and use an electric shock to reset my heartbeat.

Am I worried or fearful?  Nope!   My journey will continue on the Emmaus Road. 

I’ll keep you updated! God bless!