Three Years And A Letter


This is my command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9

Friday, July 31, 2015

My Chasey-Bear,

How very far you’ve come!  When they first put a name to the giant ball inside your head, the nightmare of it spreading through your skull and down your back, I read that “long term survival” was 3-5 years, and now, here you are: at the three year mark.


I know you don’t like me to even speak about the hospital on the majority of days and it’s okay, we can mostly play on your terms, but today is different.  This day in your short history, you were on nobody’s terms and only God himself knew what came next as we learned the unfolding: that you would carry a terminal illness with you the rest of your breath here on earth.

I still remember how small you looked in that first ER bed, how confused your eyes were, and how rosy your cheeks got from all the steroids they pumped in as they tried to save you from yourself before the damage became too great.  

I remember holding the oxygen mask to your face and thinking it couldn’t really be happening, and if we were in a movie, that would have been the moment for slow motion and an audible heart beat.  Because sometimes life feels like it’s slowly tearing apart.

We’ve given you over to Jesus more times than I can count and held you close even more time than that.  Yet here you are, still on your journey, standing smack in the middle of your life road, laughing at anything barreling down on you – and how we love you for your fierce, “you-and-what-army” self.

I know these days turned into years have not been easy for you – and I know “not been easy” is a gross understatement.


None of us know how much further this road continues, but I know if it’s with you – as I’ve known from the first time you kicked inside of me – it will never be dull.  And so we’ll just keep at it as we have tried to all along… in His grace, moment by moment.

All our love, my darling survivor,

Daddy and Mama

Your grace abounds in deepest waters. Your sovereign hand will be my guide.
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me, You’ve never failed and You won’t start now. So I will call upon Your name and keep my eyes above the waves when oceans rise. My soul will rest in Your embrace, for I am Yours and You are mine.  ~Oceans, Hillsong United

7 responses to “Three Years And A Letter

  1. Yes, I will read. Yes, I will cry. Yes, I will pray. Yes, I have and continue to enter in with you from afar in your journey of grace and grieving. I hold with you “yet another opportunity,” view of the sufferings in this life, but I also feel the reality of the suffering that is so real and not removed by faith. Faith allows us to feel the suffering, to remain under it, and not run to other things to numb it. But, faith also allows us to grieve even in the living moments and that grief hurts.

    Today, 3 years, is full of praise and thanksgiving. Celebrating Chase’s fierceness, your family’s faithfulness, and God’s grace. Love you guys.

  2. Believe me, Ellie, you and your family are more of an encouragement to those who know you, than you’ll ever realize!

  3. You. ARE. Beautiful.
    Thank you for showing us what it looks like to CLING to Abba.

  4. You got me with this one, Ellie. Such beauty…

  5. Yes and amen. He walks with us through the fire, moment by moment. What a mighty, merciful God we love!

  6. My tears flow as I read this and reflect how little I have to complain about. I so appreciate your ability to write about your family. Prayers will continue from me.

  7. That scraped knee and mischievous smile tell me you have a fun year ahead of you Bob and Ellie! Thank you for the reminder that we hold our babies with hands open, knowing our Father holds them more tightly than we realize. Happy happy happy birthday to you Chase! We love you!

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