At the beginning of our battle, fear consumed most of my thoughts and emotions. I would be lying if I told you I had conquered it. Even now, fear is something I battle daily—not because of what I see when I look at my daughter, but because of what I see in other children fighting the same fight.
When I look at her, I see the little girl I love. I see her smile, her strength, and all the ways she continues to amaze me. It is often the stories outside of our own that stir up fear and remind me of everything that feels beyond my control.
When I see other children fighting this same battle, my heart aches. I so deeply want every child to have access to CAR-T cell immunotherapy, and I want it to work for them the way it has for her. I want every family to experience the hope we have been given and every child to have the opportunity to keep writing their story.
My faith was strong when we began this journey, and I am grateful for the foundation I already had. Without a foundation, there is nothing to stand on, nothing to build upon, and nothing from which to grow. My foundation gave me a place to start, but the growth God has worked in me since September 2023 is something I will always be grateful for.
When we first heard the words brain tumor, I wanted to know everything. I researched relentlessly, determined to understand the diagnosis, the treatment, and what lay ahead. With my background in the medical field, I felt it was my responsibility to ask the right questions and learn as much as possible so I could help prepare my daughter for what was to come.
At one point, I joined a Facebook group for families facing the same diagnosis. I lasted thirty minutes.
Thirty minutes was enough to witness a level of heartbreak and devastation that shook me to my core. I left the group and made a decision: I needed boundaries. I had to focus on her story, not everyone else’s. Her journey was uniquely hers, and comparing it to others would only steal the strength, peace, and hope I needed for the road ahead.
Around that same time, a friend introduced me to a pastor in Florida who was beginning a sermon series about running your own race instead of comparing yourself to others. I truly believe God used that message to meet me exactly where I was. It became an anchor during some of the hardest days I had ever faced.
I also read The Circle Maker by Mark Batterson, a book that deeply impacted me. It reminded me of the power of prayer and the faithfulness of God. It challenged me to pray boldly and trust that God was still working, even when I couldn’t see it.
That is when I began taking prayer walks.
Not because I thought my prayers were more likely to be heard outdoors, but because those walks gave me a peaceful place to meet with God. They allowed me to talk with Him honestly, pour out my fears, and feel as though He was walking beside me every step of the way.
I would write Scriptures on notecards and pray them back to Him.
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” — Psalm 46:1
My prayer became, Lord, we are in trouble. Please help us. Bring healing to our daughter.
Then I would pray Matthew 21:22:
“If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.”
So I prayed, Lord, I believe with all my heart that You are more than able to heal my daughter. If it is Your will, remove every cancer cell, restore every healthy cell, and bring complete healing to her body.
Those walks did more than give me a place to pray. They planted Scripture deep within my heart. They equipped me with truth for the moments when fear tried to take over and gave me a consistent place to intercede for my daughter day after day.
One evening, it was dark, cold, and misting rain. One of my best friends was at our house with her family, and my anxiety was overwhelming. I asked if she would take a prayer walk around the property with me.
Without hesitation, she grabbed a stack of Scripture-filled notecards, and I took another. Armed with flashlights, we walked through the cold and rain, circling our property and praying.
To an outsider, it probably looked a little crazy.
To me, it meant more than words could ever express.
She stepped into the trenches with me. She didn’t try to fix the situation or offer empty words. She simply showed up. She stood beside me in the cold, the darkness, and the uncertainty, faithfully interceding for my daughter.
That night became a picture of what love truly looks like.
Love gets in the trenches.
Love shows up when it’s uncomfortable.
Love walks through the storm with someone instead of waiting for the sunshine to return.
I will never forget how grateful I was to have her by my side that night.
If someone you love is walking through a battle, be the person who gets in the trenches with them. Sit beside them in the waiting room. Pray with them in the dark. Walk through the rain with them.
I can promise you this: the impact you make will reach far beyond anything you will ever fully know.