We are so blown away when people approach us in the community about this blog. We are so grateful for the prayers and love that we have received throughout this nightmare for our boy and our family. Several people have contacted me this week blessing me with encouragement after I admitted that this week has been rough. Very rough.
Having a child with cancer is like seeing the world much much clearer. When I first heard those life changing words of "stage four cancer" my world shifted. Things that used to matter no longer are a concern. Faith, family, friends, and meaningful memories trump everything else now. It is brutal and horrifying to hold your child down for painful procedures, watch him throw up post-chemo, and deal with the daily care of your child knowing in the back of your mind that cancer might take your child from your arms one day.
This past week, I allowed cancer to be bigger than my God. I allowed fear to overshadow the truths from God's word that I have been studying. I allowed despair and anxiety to rob me of the here and now with my children and husband. Everyone is painfully aware that David can relapse at anytime and we will be thrust back into the nightmare of treatment again. That knowledge does not; however, have to take away the beauty of the here and now.
As a cancer parent you ride the roller coaster with your child. When they feel well, you are on top of the world. When they are very sick your heart hurts as you watch them fight the good fight. The sad reality that I allowed to overwhelm me this week is that childhood cancer is real and it is robbing children of their childhoods every single day.
Mike and I do not allow ourselves to discuss the word relapse. The other night as we traveled to David's appointment he asked me why I was in such despair. I shared with him that I just have felt like he was going to relapse. I looked at him and said "I cannot imagine this world without David in it." He agreed but gently reminded me that if he is not with us then he will be with Jesus. That is truly the only comfort that can bring me back to reality when the statistics and the unknowns of he future overwhelm me.
I often wonder if this will be David's last birthday. Will he live long enough to be an uncle? Will he graduate from high school? Will be have a cute girlfriend and me and Mike will double date with them one day?
I shared at the womens' conference my true comfort as a christian. Because of my Jesus and your Jesus cancer will not win. Ever. Cancer may one day stop my baby's breathing here on Earth, but he will either be in our arms or in the arms of our Savior. That is the only truth that brings me back from the dark pit that I allowed myself to enter this past week.
Sadly I bet the nightmares and flashbacks are going to get worse before they get better as the diagnosis day approaches. Currently I am studying Psalms and this verse is so powerful to me.
You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.
That verse reminds me that I will not always live in this stage where nightmares and anxiety try to rob me of the peace and joy that comes from God. I am so excited that this November 17th David and I will be dancing, singing and getting our praise on with David Crowder instead of the wailing that was done last year. Our amazing God truly will turn my wailing into dancing. Blessed be the name of the Lord.