What do you do when one of your darkest fears comes to life? If you would have told me a year ago that I would be sitting next to my child while he gets chemotherapy, prepping for a bone marrow transplant, I would have never believed it. But somehow here we are. I’ve had moments of “why us?” and moments of “how did we get here?!” I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been scared or even angered at times by this whole mess. There have been moments when I’ve walked upstairs, my eyes have caught sight of him lying in bed, and I have become unable to move. There have been moments when “normal” has made me cry instead of exhale. There have been moments when I have gotten angry wondering why I am no longer God’s favorite child. I have had to answer the question, “Could I die?” from my son and his siblings. We have had to tell our family-loving children that there’s a big possibility that Fenix will not be able to have children. (We have caught many of their tears over that one.) We have had to reassure them that God has not left us, nor will he. God has not “done” this to Fenix, or our family.
In Romans 5 it says that “suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” I cannot explain the details of how or why this is, but it’s true. I think it plays out differently for each of us. Our family has/is walking through something that has caused a bit of suffering, but has prompted us to press on, while refining our character, and ultimately resulted in hope. Our hope has never been more secure. Or less for that matter. It has just become more realized in this season. The beauty is that while Erich and I are learning how to walk by faith in a season of darkness, so are our children. God has been here. He has gone ahead of us, and he’s been beside us each step of the way. We know it, and our children know it. We are learning what surrender means, and also realizing that surrender is an ongoing practice. I am learning to start my day with surrender. It means that I surrender control, surrender my life, surrender my fears, and surrender my family. I think that last one is the most challenging. I have always considered myself a woman fully surrendered to God, until hardship touched my family - more specifically, my child and children. This season has made me realize surrender is a process, not a one and done occurrence. Every hiccup, every tear, every pain, every insecurity my children stumble upon forces me to resurrender them to the One to whom they belong.
This year my children have been thrown into a new level of maturity. They’ve seen their brother go through some scary things, and have been involved directly by being matched donors. They have taken it like champions. I could not be prouder of them. We still have some rocky ground to cover, but we know God is faithful and he is right here with us.
So, what happens when our darkest fears come to life? Our faith grows, our family grows, and our hope grows. The darkness doesn’t seem so scary when you shine some light on it, so we will shine on.
“Mom, I can’t believe our family is going through this.”
“I know. It’s kind of a dark time, but sometimes God allows us to go through dark times, so we can shine bright. Remember the Sermon on the Mount? ‘You are the light of the world...’ Where does light employ its purpose?”
“In the dark.”
“And where is light at its brightest?”
“In the darkest places.”
“That’s right.”
“But what if it gets so dark he dies, Mom?”
“...We keep shining, love. God’s love and His light don’t go out when we die. They go beyond death. Even if that happens, we will keep on shining.”
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