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Furm's Take: All Eyes On Hoj
Recent grad Mike Hojnacki has spent most of his time in an unexpected place - the Cleveland Clinic's cancer ward. It has done nothing to diminish his hope, however.
Cleveland, OH — After Mike Hojnacki failed to become an All-American wrestler in four years at Messiah, something even better happened to him. He got cancer. Don’t smash your computer with a brick. Just sit down with Hojnacki for lunch, or read his uber-inspirational blog, and you’ll see what makes this guy tick. A hundred bucks says he changes your life. “Despite how many conversations I had with (Messiah wrestling head coach Bryan) Brunk about being secure in our identity with the Lord and not in our actions, I just coveted that ‘immortal status’ that came with being an All-American or national champion,” Hojnacki said this week. “I thought once I got that platform, people would look at me. And I knew what I was going to say. But I’ve been given a different platform. And honestly, it’s exponentially bigger than what a trophy would have given me.” Hojnacki won’t lie to you. He’ll tell you he’s been angry that he was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma around Easter, that he’s not thrilled about four to six months of chemotherapy and another month of radiation at the Cleveland Clinic’s Cancer Center, just outside his hometown of Hudson, Ohio. But he’ll also tell you that his faith is what’s sustaining him, and he wants people to see that. So, he humbly writes his blog. And the Hojnacki-effect has spread like the use of air conditioning. “It’s been incredible,” he says. “Last week my blog had 5,000 views ... someone read it in Ireland. I don’t know anyone in Ireland. People come up to me and say, ‘I’m sorry.’ And I’ll say, ‘Did you give me cancer?’ There’s no real reason to be sorry. God is doing some pretty amazing stuff with this.” ![]() “I think people who don’t know Jesus look at suffering as if they’re looking through a hole in a wooden fence,” Hojnacki said. “You only see that little area of suffering. And yeah, that sucks. But I believe God can help you see over the fence and see everything else — a much bigger picture. If we can try to get a grasp on eternity, we realize that this is not all there is.” There’s also a lot more to Hojnacki than cancer. Read his blog post “Yet not what I will ...” and you’ll have a hard time keeping your jaw off the floor. Or, simply listen to the man talk with the transparency of Saran wrap. “This is not about cancer for me,” he says. “This is about hope. Romans 5:1-5 talks about rejoicing in our sufferings, because suffering produces perseverance, perseverance character, and character hope. And hope does not disappoint. I’m not bullet proof, and I’m not going to lie, my hope waivers at times. There are nights where I’ve begged God to take it away. But that’s when I’m reminded by God to look over the fence. And I’m reminded that this is not it.” Not that Hojnacki has any plans to lose this fight. Cancer prefers its battles one-on-one. Hojnacki is assembling an army. Family members and friends created ‘Team Hoj,’ a Facebook group where folks can purchase t-shirts and wristbands to support the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Five former Messiah wrestlers — along with Brunk himself — are participating in The Nation’s Triathlon in September, an event to benefit the same organization. They have pledged to raise $2,500 apiece. “When I found out Hoj had cancer, it rocked me,” Brunk says. “Not so much in my faith, but my understanding of how this whole faith thing works. How am I supposed to pray? Why Hoj? But after I read his blog, I realized it was me that needed mentoring. The wrestler was mentoring the coach. I’m floored by how he’s glorifying God in the midst of something that’s trying. Now, we’re just trying to do what we can, because we can’t do anything else.” So, with the support of Brunk, his family, his beautiful girlfriend Lindsay, some person in Ireland and hundreds of others, Mike Hojnacki is not just fighting cancer, he’s using it like a rented mule. The most mind-numbing part? He relishes it. “Because of the circumstance, I have eyes on me. It’s not the circumstance I would have chosen, but it’s what I’ve been dealt,” Hojnacki says. “I’ve got four to six months that I plan on battling this before it’s beaten. That’s a small window of time. So during that time, I want people to see that I have a love for life and I have faith in God. It’s not easy to say this, but I’d be willing to have cancer the rest of my life if I was able to have an impact on people. Thankfully, I’m supposed to be healed, but the impact this whole thing has had already, it’s so much bigger than myself.” Whenever Hoj beats his lymphoma, it won’t signal the end of his message. He says he doesn’t want people to “wear their Team Hoj t-shirts for a few months and then use them to wash the car,” so he plans on using his cancer “as a launching pad for hope.” “I want to share the perspective that the Lord has given me, and I want to do that for the rest of my life,” Hoj says. “I have cancer. I should be freaking out. But I have a sense of peace which is unlike anything I’ve ever had in my life. And I have hope because of God. “In my everyday life, I feel like I’m entitled to another day, entitled to be fat and happy,” he continued. “This whole situation has made me put my money where my mouth is. And through it all, I’m just humbled at how many people have shown they care about me. Who am I to think that people would do all they’ve done for me? What is so inherently good about me that people care so much?” It could very well be the only aspect of life he has yet to figure out.
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