Pattison's Perspectives

A New Year, A New Blog, and My Son’s Battle With Cancer

As some of you who read this blog may already know, less than two weeks before Thanksgiving, my five-year-old son was diagnosed with Osteosarcoma (bone cancer) in his leg.

Needless to say, the past month and a half has been a whirlwind of horrendously challenging trials for my family as our whole world has been turned upside down.

To better process the anguish (and to hopefully be able to help other families who go through this in the future), I began a new blog chronicling our battle with our baby boy’s cancer.

Although I will still keep this blog, I won’t be adding much to it as my time is limited even more now than it has ever been in the past. However, I encourage you to subscribe to my new blog, The Kohen Chronicles (or at least check it out). Your encouragement and support are greatly appreciated.

Additionally, you can check out my non-fiction articles and essays published on Medium at

As for my next book (an anthology of short stories entitled What Lurks Beneath), I am still working on writing it but its release is obviously going to be delayed. I was originally hoping to have it published by the end of 2020, but it will likely not be available until the following year.

Thank you for your understanding, patience, and support during this challenging time.


J.L. Pattison

Encouragement, Pattison's Perspectives

Ichabod and coffee. 

I admit it. I had to read the second half of Kimberli Lira’s article through tear-blurred eyes.

IMG_1574Kimberli (the woman who wrote the candidly heart-wrenching article “Why the church doesn’t need anymore coffee bars“) has successfully captured in one blog post what I had been lamenting for years. Through her husband Mel’s death, she has effectively exposed the problem with most American churches. 

It’s the rotting fruit that I warned against for years only to receive countless verbal lashings for it on Internet forums, on blogs, and in face to face conversations. I was regularly labeled “judgmental” and called a “Pharisee” for warning about the very thing that Kimberli is now enduring. And all of it came from professing Christians content with wading through life in their mile-wide, inch deep therapeutic social clubs that masquerade as churches.

I enlisted in the battle for the purity of the Gospel, and it was for those like Kimberli, her dying husband, and her grieving kids, that I fought.

IMG_1573And it was for these reasons I took an almost daily verbal beating from those endorsing the great downgrade of the church while they dined on its rotting fruit. In the end, there were too many of them and not enough of us. They seemed to have a neverending endurance, energized by the comfort, pleasure, and entertainment that was the source of their strength and numbers. So much so, that I eventually laid down my arms, fatigued from the endless battle.

Before you do anything else today, stop and read Kimberli’s story. I pray that it does for you, your church, and for American Christianity, what my years of defending and contending for the faith never could.

God bless you, young widow, in your time of loss, and God bless your children.

“It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting.”

Ecclesiastes 7:2

Why the church doesn’t need anymore coffee bars by Kimberli Lira

More and more on my social media feeds I have been seeing a lot of churches boast of the cool, trendy new initiatives that they have begun. I have seen pictures of coffee bars that resemble Starbucks. I have seen lighting that resembles one seen on Broadway. I have read catchy sermon titles and have seen how people have brought the movies into their sermons.

To say he battled cancer is an understatement. He was hospitalized two weeks out of every month during the first year. He was hospitalized a total of 18 times. He was rushed to the emergency room 8 times. He spent hundreds of days separated from his two children. And eventually the chemo, designed to get rid of the cancer, caused him to be paralyzed. And for the last four months of his life he was paralyzed and confined to a bed.

My husband endured cycle after cycle of chemo. He was separated from his children many nights. He was hooked up to chemo for 24 hours at a time. He listened to the doctors tell him bad news after bad news. He was left paralyzed and unable to get out of bed. And he never said how much he appreciated the coffee bar at the church. Never once did he say he loved the lighting in the sanctuary. He never told me how cool it was that they put a couch on the platform. He didn’t boast of the graphics and props on the platform. He talked about Jesus. He quoted scriptures. He reminded me of sermons we had heard. And in the middle of the night he sang songs of praise and worship to God and he spent his time praying. Because nothing a church does to strategize to bring in members helps you in the time of the storm. It is only Jesus.

On February 13th I had to most difficult task of telling my children their dad was not going to make it and the next day at 7:24 the doctor’s declared him dead. And as I lay next to my children at night listening to my daughter sob uncontrollably because she misses her dad so much I am not thinking about how trendy my church is. I am thinking that my strength comes solely from God.

I don’t have my best friend with me anymore. And even though I take comfort in knowing he is in heaven I can’t talk to my husband. I can’t text him during the day. I can’t share with him my frustrations. I can’t hold his hand. I can’t hug him. I can’t kiss him. He is not here. And as I drive to church during the week, I am not thinking that I am so glad the leadership are reading “how to grow your church” books and adopting cool sermon series. I am thinking how desperate I need Jesus.

As I look at two young children who now have to grow up without their amazing dad by their side, I am not thinking of how it was so awesome that the minister related the message to a Hollywood film. I am thinking of how much I need Jesus.

Continue reading Kimberli’s story on her blog.

You can also support this family here

News and Commentary, NFL Football

Where does the money go?

It’s that time of the year again when the players of all 32 NFL teams wear pink as part of their uniforms to remind everyone watching that it’s national breast cancer awareness month. But have you ever wondered where the money for the merchandise goes?