It is not the right way to spend your childhood.
Mid-2017 I got news that rocked my core. My sweet friend told me that her little boy had been diagnosed with Stage 4 neuroblastoma. As a mother of two young girls, my heart immediately skipped a beat–or five.
This family was mentioned in my morning devotions, and I still remember writing about it until I stopped journaling as I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying. It was the kind of ugly, uncontrollable bawling that you don’t want anyone to hear.
How is my friend doing? How do they carry this unimaginable weight? What if this were my child–how would I respond to this kind of devastation? What kind of conversations could I have with my Heavenly Father? I was honest to tell you, this thought raced through my head. Please, God!
Four months later, Bridgette, our oldest daughter, was diagnosed at eight with germinoma. This is a type brain tumor located on her pituitary. Our utmost attention was quickly drawn to childhood cancer. We were introduced into a medical community that…