As I listened to worship music today, I found myself mentally preparing for the week ahead while also reflecting on the week we just walked through.
It was not an easy one.
We spent the week preparing for my uncle’s celebration of life service. On Friday night, we gathered as a community and said goodbye. The message was shared beautifully by a friend who has walked beside my family through many of life’s highs and lows.
We were surrounded by people who loved him.
Most importantly, his sons felt loved.
That was my greatest hope through all of it.
But while we were preparing to honor one life, on the other side of the country, a little boy we love dearly was facing devastating news. He is battling the same tumor as our daughter, and his family was told that things did not look good.
He is now undergoing radiation for the third time.
Hard things.
The kind of things that have no easy answers but leave behind so many painful questions.
The week ahead will be filled with difficult, heavy and good moments.
Tomorrow brings infusion number 50.
In some ways, it is just another number. Another day at the hospital. Another needle placed into her head. Another 100 million CAR-T cells delivered into her sweet brain to fight a tumor no child should ever have to face.
But it feels like so much more than a number.
Because not many children have reached it.
Fifty infusions mean she is still battling.
The tumor is losing.
God is answering my prayers.
He is hearing me.
His will continues to allow her to remain here with us.
Science is progressing. A tumor that had full reign for decades is no longer winning every battle.
It is more than a number because so few ever reach it.
Our daughter is a walking miracle by medical standards, and yet I continue begging every day for the miracle to be completed.
In the waiting, I remind myself to be grateful.
Do not be greedy.
Do not ask for too much.
But my expectations have always been high in every area of my life. Honestly, that has been both a blessing and a burden.
High expectations can leave you disappointed, especially when you grow older and realize you are not actually in control of much at all. The only thing we can control is our own behavior, and as humans, we are not always very good at controlling even that.
I know I fail at times.
Tomorrow night, after her infusion, I have the opportunity to join a podcast with other moms whose children are battling the same tumor.
But that is not the only thing we have in common.
We will be talking about how our faith has carried us through the most difficult seasons of our lives.
I feel like I share often about how God has been with us since before the initial diagnosis. When I look back over my entire life, I can see the moments when He intervened on my behalf.
In the middle of the heartache, the stress and the fear, I was reminded today of who the God I am calling on actually is.
He is the God who parted the sea.
The God who gave a shepherd boy the courage to face a giant.
The God who touched people throughout the Bible and healed them.
The God who cared for the rich, the poor and everyone in between.
The God who gave mercy and grace that were completely undeserved.
The God who formed man from dust.
The God who created every cell, every system and every intricate part of the human body.
The God who created every part of this earth.
The God I am calling on is faithful.
I am calling on a God who hears my prayers.
A God who answers prayers.
A God who loves my daughter even more than I do.
I am calling on a God whose strength cannot be measured.
I am calling on the same God who proved time and time again throughout the Bible that He was strong, that He loved His people, that He heard their prayers and that He cared deeply about their pain.
When Lazarus died, Jesus wept.
He wept even though He already knew He was going to bring Lazarus back to life.
That reminds me that our pain does not go unnoticed by Him.
He sees every tear.
He hears every prayer.
He understands every question we are too afraid or too exhausted to say out loud.
And even when we cannot understand what He is doing, we can remember who He is.
The same God who was faithful then is faithful now.
So as we walk into another difficult week, I will continue calling on Him.
I will continue begging.
I will continue believing.
I will continue thanking Him for every answered prayer, every infusion, every ordinary day and every miracle still unfolding.
Because infusion number 50 is not just another number.
It is evidence that she is still here.
Still fighting.
Still living.
And God is still working.
What God Are You Calling On?
