Tackling Multiple Sclerosis

Then the Holy Spirit spoke to him. The Holy Spirit told him to speak to the others who were also waiting in the room. Many of them were frazzled, worried, and fearful. Feeling compelled, Frank stood up and began to speak to the people in the waiting room. “Excuse me. Good afternoon. Let me introduce myself. My name is Frank Hickson. I feel compelled to talk to you today about why we are all here. We are all here for this thing called MS. I look at you and I can see the concern on some of your faces. I can see fear and worry in others and in your loved ones that care so much about you that they are here with you today. We are all here for the same thing and that thing is MS. I thought that it might be a good idea for us to share our experiences with MS—knowing that we are not alone in this fight. This is an opportunity for us to learn more about MS. Because, let me tell you one thing, I believe that we are not far from a cure for this thing called MS. We are not far from beating this but we got to have faith. We’ve got to pray and we’ve got to put all this in God’s hands. Now, let me tell you about my fight with MS and a little about who I am.” A very tall and handsome fair-skinned African American man in his late teens or early 20s sat near the corner on the opposite side of the room from where Frank was speaking. All of his fashionable clothes were well-fitted and looking at him, one would never think that he was anything but the picture of youthful vitality. Not until, that is, the young man stood up to walk. During the time while Frank was speaking the young man had an ear bud in his right ear listening to music while his head was buried in his smartphone. The second time that Frank said his name, it caught the young man’s attention. He stopped what he was doing and raised his head slowly and looked at Frank quizzically. Then he asked, “Are you Coach Frank Hickson from Liberty?” “Yes.” Frank replied. Just then, a Caucasian man in his early 50s said, “I knew I recognized you from somewhere. I just was racking my brain but I just couldn’t pin it. You coached at the Naval Academy in Annapolis. Our son was a midshipman while you were there.” Turning to his wife, he solemnly said, “Remember, Bobby told us about what happened to that guy in his class?” His wife was an undeniably beautiful woman. She was above average height and bi-racial. The man’s wife, she too in her 50s answered, “Yes, an absolute shame what happened to that young man. Robert, let him speak.” The young man who initially was like a large bag of perlite tossed against a wall now sat upright and keenly interested in what Frank had to say. The young man started to speak again and asked, “Did you stop coaching because of MS? Did you always wanted to coach? Did you play in college? How did you get into coaching?” Frank smiles warmly and then chuckled as he found the young man’s enthusiasm very familiar. The speed at which his questions came reminded Frank of a machine gun. Frank had seen the young man’s excitement countless times on the faces of more high school juniors than he could recall over all the years he had traveled around the country during recruiting season. These memories were all good memories. These memories tugged at Frank’s heart. They were times that he missed a little. The young man’s enthusiasm dovetailing the middle-aged couple’s warm response to him and their clear love for each other bolstered the feelings he experienced when the Holy Spirit told him, “Frank, look around you! All these people are here for the same reason as you. Many of them are scared. Many feel lonely and unsure of what their futures hold. You have experienced many things along this journey with MS. Now, is the time to stand up, so Frank, stand. Stand. Do…it…now…Frank. Stand!”