I wanted to take a moment to share a deeper update after my recent visit with the transplant team at UAMS. Going into these appointments always brings a mix of emotions, but I am walking away from this one feeling incredibly peaceful and reassured that God is entirely in control of the timing.

When you are living with a condition like primary myelofibrosis, you quickly learn the balance between medical facts and spiritual faith. There are days when the numbers look encouraging, days when symptoms remind you that the disease is still very real, and days when all you can do is trust that God sees the full picture even when you only see a small piece of it.

During this visit, we spent some time discussing my medication, Ojjaara. It’s important to be transparent about what this medicine does and what it doesn’t do. Ojjaara doesn’t stop, reverse, or even slow the progression of the fibrosis (the scarring in the bone marrow). Its primary purpose is symptom management, helping my body function better and improving my quality of life.

When I first started Ojjaara back in April, I was hopeful but also cautious. The first few weeks were not as straightforward as I expected. There were days when I thought I was turning a corner, followed by days when the fatigue, discomfort, and other symptoms reminded me that healing is rarely a straight line. Some days I felt encouraged. Other days I questioned whether the medication was helping at all.

Over time, however, a clearer picture began to emerge.

The best way I can describe it is that the medication has given me more good days than I was having before. The crushing fatigue that once seemed constant isn’t as overwhelming as it was. I am functioning better than I was several months ago. My blood work has shown encouraging stability, and there are moments when I genuinely feel more like myself again.

But I also want to be honest: I still have bad days.

I still experience fatigue. I still have days where my energy disappears without warning. There are mornings when my body reminds me that this disease hasn’t gone away. Living with a chronic illness means learning that improvement doesn’t always mean the absence of symptoms. Sometimes improvement simply means the hard days aren’t quite as hard, or that they don’t come quite as often.

That’s why I consider Ojjaara such a blessing. Not because it has made me forget I have myelofibrosis, but because it has helped me regain pieces of my life that felt like they were slipping away. It has given me more opportunities to spend time with family, work, write, and enjoy moments that fatigue once stole from me.

Looking back at my blood work from my very first appointment compared to my latest labs, the difference is encouraging. Seeing those improvements and steady trends serves as a reminder that progress can happen even when it feels slow. Sometimes God’s provision comes through dramatic miracles, and sometimes it comes through steady, measurable improvements that unfold one day at a time.

Right now, our overarching plan remains focused on careful monitoring so we can gather the exact diagnostic data needed to make the best decisions moving forward. We have a clear roadmap for the next few months:

• July: A routine spleen CT scan to see how things are looking.

• August: A bone marrow biopsy to get a deeper look at what’s happening beneath the surface.

• September: A comprehensive follow-up appointment with the team to review all the results together.

It will be during that September visit that we evaluate everything and determine our next definitive steps—whether that means officially moving forward with a transplant or continuing our current path of medication and close monitoring.

I’ll admit that waiting isn’t always easy. There is a part of me that wants answers now. I want certainty. I want to know exactly what the future holds. But God rarely asks us to walk by certainty; He asks us to walk by faith.

And so that is what I’m trying to do.

I am trusting Him with every scan, every biopsy, every lab report, and every decision that lies ahead. Whether the path leads toward transplant or continued treatment, I know that none of it takes Him by surprise. The same God who was with me on the day of diagnosis is the same God who will be with me in September and every day after that.

A season of waiting is never a season of wasting. Sometimes God does some of His deepest work in the waiting room.

Thank you all so much for your continued prayers, your notes of encouragement, and for walking this resilient road right alongside me. Your support has carried me through more difficult days than you know, and I am grateful for every message, prayer, and act of kindness.

As always, I’ll keep you posted as the summer progresses.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11