The Weirdness of Hope

A family friend told Liam tonight that his family prays for Liam every night. This friend specifically mentioned praying for Liam to get home soon. As the friend was saying this, I could see in Liam’s face that these words meant a lot to him. After the call ended, Liam turned to me and said, “Dad, I really want to go home.” We talked about going home, and though our conversation was short, Liam proceeded to ask, “Dad, can we stop talking about this? It’s making me cry.” Of course, this made me cry with him. Liam and I hugged and moved on to something else. It seems like every day the longing to go home is on Liam’s mind.

Liam’s longing to go home reminds me of my longing as a Christian for Christ’s return—the day I get to “go home.” One of my initial prayers after Liam’s diagnosis was, “Come, Lord Jesus!” Seeing my son with cancer painfully reminded me that things are not as they should be. Still, as a Christian, my hope in the midst of suffering is that Jesus will return, save His people, wipe away our tears, and deal with evil through judgment. Moreover, this current suffering has served to exacerbate and heighten my longing for Jesus’ return. The valley of the shadow of death should make us long to dwell in the house of the Lord forever (Ps. 23:4; 6). And when you really think about it, isn’t this one of the ways that God mysteriously brings good out of evil (Rom. 8:28)? Isn’t this one of the ways that God subverts evil by flipping it on its head to accomplish His purposes? For the Christian, suffering is not only paired with hope, it also pushes us to hope.

I do not write any of this with ease. I am not, in some weird way, claiming to enjoy all of this. I also cannot say I have perfectly clung to hope every moment of every day. But what I do know is that the beeping of hospital equipment makes me want to go home. I want Jesus to come back. I want tears to cease. I want evil judged. I want God to restore all things. And the fact that my longings will one day be fulfilled allows me to, weirdly, find moments of rejoicing in the midst of pain.

I hope as you face suffering and as you continue to walk and pray with us that God uses it to produce a Christian hope in you.

"Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. " - Romans 5:1-5

Liam's Status

This morning we asked you all to pray for Liam's fever to subside, blood pressure to rise, and for no trauma if a new IV was necessary. Well, his fever ceased, his blood pressure returned to normal, and they did not have to use a new IV for fluids. He perked up and had a pretty good, no-fever day. He and I chased down Moxi (the hospital robot), saw Gerald (the pufferfish), raced bikes in the hallway, played board games, and more. Also, he has become a champ at taking prednisone. He doesn't even flinch. Thank you for praying. We see God answering your prayers. 

This evening, Liam started to develop a fever again. In the middle of typing this I could tell his breathing was getting heavier. I called the nurse in who checked his vitals and his temperature is rising. The doctor did comfort us today that this sort of thing is normal. Nevertheless, it concerns us as parents. According to protocol, because of the fever, the doctor started him on yet another antibiotic. 

The Future (sort of)

While we are on day 16 since the diagnosis, we are on day 13 of the 28 days of Phase 1 of treatment. This first phase may have to be finished in the hospital, though if Liam is doing well, some of it may be finished at home. Liam might come home on day 22 (June 24) of Phase 1. It is also possible that he'll come home later. 

After Phase 1 comes Phase 2. Chemotherapy will, from what we understand, be more intense but will be happening through outpatient care. So, Liam will likely be home for Phase 2. It usually lasts around 6 months depending on how he is responding to treatment.

So, we have an idea of what might happen. But we don't know for certain. One day at a time is all we can do for now.

How to Pray

• Pray for Liam's healing - that fevers would subside and any possible infections would dissapate

• Pray for continued stamina for Emily and I

• Pray for Lily and Jack, their adjustment

• Pray for continued faith for us