I still remember the day like it was yesterday…some details glare out at me, others have faded some, but are still there. The day started early, with Ben bringing her into our bed. We both noticed a deep purple bruise on her ear (her ear!), and her mouth seemed to have just a little blood in, like she had bit her lip. I knew. Deep down, I knew. I had wrestled with it for over a week, and I believe that was God’s way of helping to soften the blow. You want answers, but you don’t. You want to figure out the path of healing, but you don’t want to hear the words that will shatter your heart into a million pieces.
The night before, I remember laying with her in bed as she fell asleep, just praying my heart out. I kept trying to war against death, tried to fight the anxiety on my end alone, tried to solve all the issues in my own head. Of course that was impossible, but as a parent, you just want to fix it, and you just don’t want to believe “this” could ever happen to your child. In the midst of that, I felt God tell me that “a cancer diagnosis doesn’t mean death.” It was what I needed to hear, it gave me the peace I needed amidst the havoc the fear was wrecking on my heart.
I remember so many details of that awful Sunday, but there are 2 will forever be embedded in my mind. Ben had taken Brynna to KidMed, where they ambulanced her over to VCU (I’ve shared the KidMed God story right? Pretty sure I did, but suffice it to say, after being told by the pediatrician’s office a few days prior that this wasn’t leukemia, the doctor at KidMed that night was a God send. He normally worked at VCU, but picked up a few shifts at KidMed. He recognized it in her and got her to the ER fast…and he also came to visit her in the PICU several times). Anyways, back to my story…my parents and I were scrambling to get everything set with the boys so I could head in and meet Ben and Brynna at the hospital. That was the scariest drive of my life, but also one where I got to the hospital and didn’t even remember driving, my mind was elsewhere…but then I walked into her room, and that vision will be in my mind for the rest of my life.
She was laying on her hospital bed in the ER while the doctors and nurses scurried around her, and someone was doing an ultrasound. She looked like death. Her mouth was covered in dried blood, her skin was ashen and gray, her eyes bloodshot from crying. It stopped me in my tracks, the decline in just the few short hours since I had seen her was intense and horrifying. The fear and heartbreak in that room was palpable. Ben whispered that they were preparing him for the worst, and as the tears flowed down my cheeks, I remember thinking, “Wait what!? I thought we would at least get a chance to fight!”
A few hours later we sat down with her oncologist. I know the gist of the words that she told us, that Brynna had leukemia and it was very serious, but I can’t remember the whole of the conversation, except for this part:
Kelly – “Do you have any questions?”
Me – “Only one, but I know you can’t answer it. Is she going to be ok?”
Kelly – “Your daughter is VERY sick, but I can promise you, we are going to do everything we possibly can to help her.”
We only had one question, and she wasn’t able to answer it. Nearly a year later, we finally started to catch glimpses of just HOW dire and serious she was. Kelly (Brynna’s oncologist) went home around 3am, and was back around 6am. She later told me that she didn’t sleep a wink that night, because she didn’t know if Brynna would make it through the night.
But God.
But God. Oh the tears.
But God.
Brynna is a miracle, we’ve said that a million times, and we will never stop saying it, because it is true. But what if she wasn’t? What if the answers to our prayers didn’t come in healing this side of heaven, what if we didn’t see our miracle, what then? Obviously, there is no way of knowing, but I can tell you this. If you go back and read our earliest posts, one theme is woven throughout…something that we clung to in those early days, something we cling to today, something we believe FULLY with our ENTIRE hearts –
God is still God, and God is still good.
No matter what. There are no guarantees for tomorrow…we see that every single day in the news, in our own experiences, in our own families and friendships. We have no guarantees that she won’t relapse or face debilitating side effects from her treatment. Not many watch their children fight through a cancer diagnosis, but that doesn’t take away from the battle YOU are fighting, from what you are facing, from what your children may be facing. But if you can get anything from our story, we pray it is this…
In the midst of the darkest night, in the midst of your shattered heart, God is still there. He wants to carry you, walk with you, be your light and your peace. This world will leave us broken and devastated, but in God there is peace, hope, and light. There is the promise of SO much more. This is not the end…in the end, God wins. God hears every prayer your heart cries out, He sees every tear. He has experienced your pain, your heartache, your grief, and He longs to hold you through yours. The vast majority of my prayers over the course of this year, have consisted of nothing more than my heart crying out, “God please. God please. Please heal her. God help.” Cry out to Him, and He will meet you where you are. Every time.
And guys, can you just look at our miracle for a moment?? Because it will never NOT bring tears to eyes, and rejoicing in my heart.
“Watch what I AM can do.”
