Devine Completion Fruit of the Spirit: Continued Cancer Journey

By Dr. Michael D. Hughes

This book by Dr. Michael D. Hughes is about his continued fight for life from a nine-year battle with cancer. It chronicles his daily fight through life and the challenges of the journey. It is his faith in God that he draws strength from to continue and to be a positive example to other people who are going through a like condition or any person who finds themselves challenged by his or her life journey.
We are all God’s fruit of the Spirit and should be an inspiration to others. We must continue to be positive and motivated to stay connected. God has placed us all in this time and space to enjoy fellowship. We are all Fruit of the Spirit.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798369403006

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Copyright © 2023 by Dr. Michael D. Hughes.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

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without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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Rev. date: 07/12/2023

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CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1 Guppy

Chapter 2 Seeing the Wind

Chapter 3 Florida Cancer Treatment

Chapter 4 The Seventh-Year Completion

Chapter 5 Walking into My Calling

Chapter 6 Being Obedient

Chapter 7 Rising to God’s Calling

Chapter 8 Reflection with Family and Friends

Chapter 9 Reunion

Chapter 10 Working for the Kingdom

Chapter 11 In the Fight for Life

To my ancestors, who had gone on. To my mother and father, who gave me more than I could have ever wanted. To my siblings, nieces, and nephew, who inspire me every day. To my son, Aaron, and daughter, Felita, who I pray would always seek the light and do things in God’s way. To Patricia, who had stood by me even when she did not have to; her friendship is everlasting. To those people who are cancer survivors and those who are starting on their journey; remember that God is the answer to all your worries and fear. And to all who are the fruit of the Spirit.

INTRODUCTION

Early in the morning on the twenty-fifth of January 2022, I was awakened with thoughts of my nephew Guppy, who had just been found dead in his home. This was a tragic event for my family and his friends. There was so much going on in the world. Inflation was rising; COVID-19 virus and variants were taking people out at alarming rates. I was preparing to graduate from the Interdenominational Theological Center in Atlanta, Georgia, with my doctoral degree in theology. The journey had been long, but I looked forward to finishing. I had just transitioned my cancer treatment team from Cancer Centers of America to Florida Cancer Specialists.

The rumor of war was in the air in Europe, and people were in so much conflict. It seemed that one of the seals of the apocalypse had been unleashed on humanity. There was so much killing going on locally and in places that were sleepy communities at one time.

It had been nine years now with my fight with cancer. At this point, I had resolved to understand that I was being kept alive by a drug that I had problems pronouncing. With everything that had gone on the past few years, I continued to stay focused on God’s will in my life and not my will.

My thoughts drew me to the meaning of the number nine because I wondered how much time I had left to affect my world. This number meant divine completion, and for the past nine years, my faith in God, who is in control of all things, had kept me within his hands to continue to move in a positive direction to complete my assignment. This was my continued cancer journey and the challenges I had faced and would face while moving toward the end and to spiritual enlightenment.

CHAPTER 1

Guppy

I had started taking my chemo, and I was nauseated badly. I did not let on, but I wanted to throw up every day everything I ate. I did not let on to anyone that I was struggling.

It was now the nineteenth of January 2022, a new year. I had been organizing and getting ready for the second half of my basketball season. After the holidays, soldiers must get themselves back into the groove of taking care of America, and it was always a challenge to organize my program after Christmas.

Patricia and I had gone to my first treatment of the year on the seventeenth of January. Dr. Taha said that I was doing good, that there were some mutations that he found, and not to worry, but I was wondering if I was turning into some superhero or growing a third eye. The word mutation is not used in the Afro-American language and usually means freak or something. I could tell he thought it was funny because I asked about this.

I had been taking chemotherapy and injections for nine years now. I had resolved now to just continue to take the drugs because it was only keeping me alive at this stage in the game. Do not get me wrong, I was grateful and in God’s hands, but I was also getting tired. I could taste and feel this chemo in my stomach.

I had seen Dr. Flood, my cardiologist, and everything was fine there. My blood pressure was finally coming back down. That made me feel good because I liked to feel that I could jump out of planes as a paratrooper. They were the best.

I had also seen my new doctor, Dr. Murphy, and met a woman who had read Elevation by Grace. When Ms. Sharon revealed that she had read the book and liked it, I just praised God for his divine completion. I had worked so hard to get to this point in my life.

With all the travels, doctors, shots and examinations, CT scans, MRIs, and nuclear PET scans, I was just so thankful. My mother was on my mind constantly, and I had begun to talk to her and my father in the shower every morning just like they were in the room with me.

I wondered if the chemo was getting to me, but they answered if I listened very intently. Patricia had been moving in a positive direction, so I was proud of her. She was fighting her own battle with cancer, so we were teammates on the journey, fighting together.

I had ordered my regalia for graduation and had my dissertation readers give me corrections on the document. I had asked Dr. Thomas to give me his blessing on my work, and he said he would do that for me. This made me feel so good and thankful. He would never know how much his opinion meant to me. He was so organized, and I could respect that. I was trying to finish school; this had also been a long journey. I started back in 2018, so I was ready to see what God had for me next.

The morning of the twenty-first of January was like any other except it was a Friday. I had made it to work and went over to the fitness center to talk to Andy about the upcoming basketball season when I got a phone call from my sister. She expressed to me that Guppy had died. He was found in his home. Guppy was my cousin’s youngest son, a bright young man in college and a political star. He was celebrating his twenty-first birthday with friends, and something went wrong.

I immediately called his father, who was my first cousin and my brother because family positions change when we transition in the birth order. I could not believe what he was saying to me. What could you say? I called some of my other relatives to make sure they were fine, but I was just taken aback. I was in the gym, trying to figure out what went wrong. It did not make sense. He was so bright.

I just saw him six months ago at his sister Summer’s funeral. She was the baby girl of five children. They both transitioned the same way, with people around them and celebrating, but now it was Guppy. It was unbelievable that this could be true, but it was.

I had just buried my mother, Summer, and now Guppy. As the eldest grandchild of my grandparents on my mother’s side, I was through. I saw my role as the person who held everybody together, and this was a blow to me. I felt that I had failed somewhere. I knew that I was not his father or mother, but I was the eldest, and to lose a child must be the hardest thing to deal with in the world. I could only reflect on my mother and his parents.

I called Patricia to let her know, and she was stunned. Not Guppy. Those were her words, and I could only say, Yes, he was gone.

For the rest of the day, I was out of it. I could not wrap my head around this, but we are all in God’s hands. I had to refocus my head because I would have a basketball coach meeting in the midday, so I was trying to focus and prepare for the meeting. I was also trying to finish my next book, so my day was full. I ended up finishing writing on the twenty-fourth of January. I had been drafting this book for about two years now, and I finally finished it. My basketball games would start on the thirty-first, so this would be another season of teaching and organizing.

The whole week, I was getting ready to travel to North Carolina for the homegoing of my nephew. I would have my emotions, and I could only wonder what my brother Greg was going through with two of his children gone within six months of each other and the same way.

I took leave on the twenty-eighth to travel, and Patricia and I left about midday. It would take us about five hours to go to Washington, North Carolina. The weather was cold all up and down the eastern coast of the United States, and surprisingly, there were a lot of people moving around.

When we got into North Carolina, I decided to take the Roseboro route. This would take me right by my mother’s hometown, but I did not stop through. It was getting late in the trip, and I just wanted to be still somewhere. It was bad enough reason for the trip. I asked Patricia if she wanted to stop in Goldsboro and go to Longhorn Restaurant for something to eat before we got to Washington, and she was all for it, so we stopped there to rest and eat. The food was great, and the service was exceptionally good. This was the first time I had been to a sit-down restaurant in a while where they had a lot of staff working, and they were so friendly.

The meal was great, and after we ate, it was back on the road. From there, it would take about two hours more, so it was about midtrip. We arrived at about six o’clock in the evening, checked into our hotel, and chilled. I was tired, still adjusting to the chemo, wanting to throw up.

The memorial service would be at two o’clock on Saturday, and I did not want to go to Greg’s house. I felt that he would have enough people around him, and I was feeling like I had lost a son also. As I said before, as the eldest grandson, my responsibility was to try and keep everyone moving in the right direction without being the leader of the family.

It was so funny because all my relatives had gone on and were ancestors now. My grandparents Nathen and Mallie Melvin had one son, Tom, and three daughters, Sue, Joyce, and Mary. I was like a second son and the eldest grandchild, the start of another generation; we were all on deck now, coming up to bat, much like Charlene was the head of the younger generation in the dugout. Guppy and Summer were a part of that generation still in the dugout without divine completion. My role was to protect my family, and it was a role that they could not understand. I imagine that when you are the firstborn in any family, you feel a sense of protection over your siblings.

I rose early on Saturday morning in time to go down in the hotel and get breakfast for Patricia and myself. It was not particularly good, but it would tide us over until the ceremony was over. Time was moving fast, and after we ate, we started to shower and get dressed. I broke down. My thoughts went to Guppy and one of my fondest memories of him. I also was thinking about my mother and how we just buried her and Summer; it was so emotional. I gathered myself, and while I was putting on my shoes, my brother texted me and asked for the room number. They had been on the road early in the morning for the drive from Virginia.

Patricia and I finished dressing, and as we were leaving the room and down the elevator, my brother Leon, Phyllis, and Savannah were at the elevator door, getting ready to come up. I hugged everyone and told them I had to put the luggage in the truck, so they went to the lobby to find seats. This would be a reunion because we had not seen one another since Christmas and the New Year. We started to take pictures and talk about the event in which we would participate.

We were not in the lobby long when Katrina, Reggie, and Dwaine came into the hotel. They were also just getting off the road. It was a family reunion. Dwaine was the second eldest grandchild, and Katrina was third in line, so it was like the leadership was all together. We sat in the lobby for a while until it was time to drive to Greg’s house. It was about twelve o’clock now, and we followed one another on the route to the house.

Greg had a beautiful home on the lake. He had worked so hard, and his family made me so proud. I just could not understand, and I knew not to question God’s wisdom.

We arrived at the house, and it was full of all my relatives: Darrell and Tammy, Charlene, Greg, Dana, Cade, Van, Marcus, Uncle C. S. M. Jefferson (the last senior in the family), Trandon, Jeremy Marky, Erica, Kiki, Junior, Meme, and the children and great-grandchildren. We all hugged one another and enjoyed the reunion. I got around to everyone, even the children.

I knew in our minds we all were thinking about Guppy and what really went wrong. I reflected on a time when Greg and his children lived in Pinehurst, North Carolina, and it was Guppy’s graduation from high school. He