When you meet Marcy Frazier Coppock you know she’s a force to be reckoned with. A tiny package of dynamite who has experienced everything except a mundane life. And recently, she was handed yet another mountain to climb.
When Marcy was ten months old, she weighed 10 pounds and was diagnosed with FTT (failure to thrive). Subsequently, a sweat chloride test revealed Cystic Fibrosis. It would’ve been easy for her parents to try to shield her from all of the “what ifs” in life. Most of us would’ve understood that rationale (especially in light of the fact that she was an only child). But to know Marcy’s parents was to know they weren’t your ordinary parents either. So instead of a life of exclusion from activities, she began to develop further the fighter mentality that we know and love her for. Likely a direct result of her determination and contagious spirit, she served as the poster child for the Indiana Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. I distinctly remember the pride that so many of us felt for her and her parents.
When Marcy was born in 1979, most of the information about CF wasn’t great. Life expectancy wasn’t long. It was very possible that she wouldn’t reach milestones like being a teenager, getting married, or having children. (Until a few years ago, the anticipated lifespan of a CF patient was just 38 years old.) But in true Marcy fashion, she broke every barrier.
If you know anything about transplant and organ donation, you know it’s a challenging world to navigate. But God had plans for Marcy’s life from the beginning and He provided a double-lung transplant. I remember the day well. Waiting to hear. Anxious. Praying for God to please take care of her body. No surprise that she came through like the champion that she is. A whole new life stretched out in front of her.
Although transplants are obviously a tremendous blessing, they carry their own challenges. Anti-rejection meds are at the top of a list of new things to monitor and be aware of. And in May, it was apparent that something wasn’t right. Marcy knows her body well. The diagnosis: Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Those anti-rejection meds carry risk. This was a direct result. Decisions were swiftly made to place a port and begin chemo. As if she needed one more thorn, they also recently discovered histoplasmosis. Her already compromised immune system was maxed out. In the ICU and trying to maintain her faith, she found herself shaking her fist at God.
Yesterday, I sat across from Marcy at her kitchen table. She’s as beautiful and radiant as ever. Her spirit is awe-inspiring and rarely (if ever) matched. But she’s tired. Weary even. Hospital billing departments don’t care about her story; they want to make sure she’s paying her accounts. Never to seem ungrateful, she’s quick to talk about how unbelievable it’s been to have these years added to her life. The children she’s been able raise. The granddaughter she’s had the privilege of spoiling. But I can’t help but stop and say, “God, this just doesn’t seem fair”.
We want so desperately for life to make sense to our finite minds; often believing that we surely have some insight that God couldn’t possibly have. (Tell me I’m wrong.) Yet this God knows the ending even before the beginning.
Marcy, I’m honored to be your friend. I pray for you to continue walking in the courage and faith you display in the midst of so many trials. Thank you for reminding me of what’s important.
II Corinthians 4:17-18 ~ For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.