A Year in the Life of Cancer
By Casey Sova
Once upon a time, I longed to have children of my own. So…in my true, determined, make what I want to happen, happen spirit, I did! Adeline Christine was born in June of 1999 and was a joy! (She continues to be even though she is 13 years old and tries my patience daily!)
Cameron Gregory Brecka was born March 11, 2002 weighing in at 8lbs, 5oz – a man baby! He was healthy, perfect and full of Y-chromosomes!
In March of 2004, Grandma felt a lump in little Cameron’s tummy. That’s when my life changing, faith building, inner growth story started.
On March 10, 2004 (one day before his 2nd Birthday), Cameron was diagnosed with a rare childhood liver cancer called hepatoblastoma. I think it took me about a week to actually be able to pronounce it correctly! So…chemo started, things were going well. But within weeks, literally in the blink of an eye, the rug was pulled out from under me.
On May 25, we headed back to Omaha for Cameron's regular treatment. We were hanging out, waiting for chemo when Cameron’s oncologist showed up. He told us that Cameron's AFP alpha fetoprotein had more than tripled from his last treatment – which was BAD!! At diagnosis, his level was 477,000; normal range is 0 - 15. At the last hospital/chemo visit, his level was down to 120,000. Still very, very high but nothing like 477,000. His AFP level at that point: 461,000. ROADBLOCK – here’s why. Effective immediately, chemo was no longer an option because 1) the chemo he was getting was the very best combination of drugs used to treat his type of tumor was no longer working. Another type of chemo may not be, most likely would NOT be effective. 2) it would make Cameron too weak for surgery.
June 17
Cameron had surgery to remove the part of his liver that had the tumor in it. When the surgeons got in, they realized the tumor was non-resectable. What did that mean? Lots of things, too many things
Cameron was put on the liver transplant list. He was rated as “status one” which meant he was top priority, number one on the list to receive a liver. I begin to crack…
June 20, 12:15a
I was sitting next to Cameron's bed in the PICU at UNMC wondering how, exactly, they tell a family when an organ becomes available. Literally ten seconds later, Cameron's nurse blasted in the room and said..."HE GOT A LIVER!!! HE GOT A LIVER!!!" She, the nurse, told me that the surgeons were on their way to harvest the liver and if they liked what they saw, they would bring it back with them which meant Cameron would most likely be having a liver transplant that very same morning around 9:00a. Reality begins to sink in…I thought about and cried for this family who was facing what we were so very desperately trying to avoid… losing someone very dear to them. Was it someone’s Mom, Dad, CHILD??? I begin cracking even more…
So…the morning of June 20, 2004 at 10:15a, surgical staff took my screaming baby from my arms to receive his new liver. I collapsed to the floor, sobbing tears of fear...
The surgical nurses called with updates throughout the surgery. The first call was at 12:00p. The initial incision had been made, surgery had started. At 1:30p, his liver was out and had started transplanting the new liver in. 3:30p: another call to inform us his new liver was in, vessels, bile ducts, etc were being connected. Cameron returned to PICU around 4:30
June 21
Blood flow good, liver enzymes high but hopefully would begin to come down within the day. Cameron’s condition was critical but his stats were good. Time is what he needed. I am broken, tired, having trouble thinking – working on about 5 – 6 hours of sleep in two days.
Fast forward eight days – eight days of Cameron’s continued improvement, eight days of joy, hope, relief and happiness. Then once again…in the blink of an eye, EVERYTHING changed. On June 30th, Cameron went into surgery, exploratory surgery where it was confirmed that the main artery feeding his new liver, his new chance at life had formed a clot which hindered blood flow to the liver which in turn meant his new liver was dying. Once again, Cameron was relisted for transplant as a status one. I pretend to be strong for Cameron and everyone else but in reality, I am terrified, shattered, angry, and feeling forsaken. God…please HELP me.
I have cancer.
There isn't an explanation as to why I became sick. All I know is God has a plan for each of us and for each plan there is a purpose. Some of us know what our purpose in life is and others will never find it. Then there are those like me who accomplish it without even realizing it. My journey with cancer will not and has not been without purpose.
It is through my illness that I have helped doctors understand this disease a little more so they may find a cure.
It is through my illness that I have opened the eyes to those around me to how precious life really is. Something we all too often take for granted.
It is through my illness that some of those around me have realized that life is too short to be afraid of our feelings. My cancer has been beaten back by the power of love. It is the most powerful of emotions, one not to be afraid of, but to be embraced. To be loved by someone unconditionally and completely is to reach into your soul and feel warmth.
It is through my illness that I have shown there is no guarantee for the future--only dreams for it. Whether the future is just another day or another 75 years, we should all dream big and live fully everyday.
It is through my illness that I have seen the strong cry, only to find more strength.
It is through my illness that some of us who haven't talked to God in awhile have once again begun to pray.
It is through my illness that I have joined the hands of those familiar to those of strangers, to form one long chain.
I have already accomplished so much in such a short amount of time and each day I continue to touch the hearts of many.
That is my purpose.
~Author Unknown
July 18
We went from going home, HOME the following day to NOT going home the following day.
I had gone home to spend some time with my daughter and brand new baby – the ones I had not see in about 5 – 6 weeks. I received a phone call from Cameron’s Dad around midnight who told me Cameron had been throwing up for the last 4 hours. He called again around 6:00a & told me Cameron had screamed all night because his tummy hurt – his little tummy was as hard as a rock.
I hurried back to Omaha once again leaving my other precious children behind. Cameron had just had a CT scan. The results…? Cameron had emergency surgery…immediate emergency surgery. Cameron had a lot of fluid in his abdomen – fluid called bile; a bile duct leak. Cameron had experienced a lot of inflammation due to the fluid & bile in his tummy. This is Cameron's fifth abdominal surgery in a month. God…I cannot, CANNOT do this anymore! Why don’t you just FIX HIM?? What is all this for? Why are you being so cruel?
August 3
WE ARE HOME!! WE ARE HOME!! WE ARE HOME!!! God is good! Yes he is! THANK YOU for healing my baby!
August 7
Back in the hospital. Another CT scan. Subtle changes…Cameron’s AFP levels had begun to rise. That terrified me because if they were in fact rising, that meant there was still cancer somewhere in his body. So what now? Cameron’s medical plan was to have two rounds of chemo – different chemo – then monitor the AFP levels to see whether or not he will need even more chemo. God…PLEASE let this number be a fluke, PLEASE let him be okay. Has he not gone through enough? I swear I will do anything you ask me to do. Just let him be okay…PLEASE!
August 8
Cameron's cancer had returned – or maybe it had just been there all along – and unfortunately was now in his lungs. Six spots within both lungs to be exact. More chemo – three different chemo drugs. The one and only option was to do the therapy and hope and pray for the best. I had again asked all those pulling for Cameron to pray. I encouraged them to trust, without a doubt, in God’s plan, that whatever happened was what was supposed to happen. I asked all my family and friends to trust and believe in Your plan but I don’t right now. Maybe I was really asking them to pray for me, for ME to believe in Your plan, for ME to have peace and strength. I think You’re a liar. I think You’re mean. You are not the God of miracles.
August 16
Back to the hospital for round 2 of chemo.
August 21
I asked for prayers for Cameron. I knew…maybe more realized…His fate was in God's hands and however hard it had been and however hard it may become, I remembered that God was bigger than all of this. I knew somewhere deep down that Cameron would be ok, that I would be ok. I really meant WHATEVER happened, we would all be fine because God was holding Cameron in the palm of his hand not only for that day but for always.
Why the sudden change of heart? Well, I had attended the Women of Faith conference that day and felt so refreshed! The theme that year was, "Irrepressible Hope." As always, I had asked our circle of support for prayers for Cameron, for a miracle, for his donor families, and for my family. “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure." Thelma Wells, you changed my way of thinking; reminding me that God is love. God is pure, God is kind, God protects, God’s plan is PERFECT!
August 28
Cameron was doing awesome! Sometimes it was hard to believe he was sick. He had become more himself then he had been even before he had been diagnosed. His counts (WBC, platelets, hemoglobin, etc.) had been super! We planned to head back to Omaha three days from today. And I was unsure whether or not we would be staying or coming right back home. At any rate, he would have chemo, although we weren’t sure of the specific drugs. After that round of chemo, Cameron was to have another scan to see what was going on in his lungs. He also would have an AFP drawn. He's was doing SO well physically. Again, I knew God was bigger than all the junk that had transpired and because of that, I had peace…I had no issues with Cameron's journey!! God you are AWESOME!!
September 5
We returned home after a four day hospital stay. Cameron received two chemo drugs, one of which was a very high dose. The first day of his treatment Cameron became very sick. I was so very scared. Scared and disappointed. During that hospital stay I also learned that the first chemo drug used had done nothing to Cameron’s cancer. It had grown. His AFP was now 28,500. God don’t you DARE do this. Don’t. Please…
Thursday, September 16
Cameron had gone into the hospital the Thursday before with a fever. He ended up being admitted and stayed through Monday afternoon. Cameron got to go home on a Monday but had to have IV antibiotics every 8 hours at home. Other than that, he had felt great. I had learned to put my faith and hope in the center of God's perfect will. But I needed help finding peace and strength. God, my faith and hope in you is beginning to dwindle…what is going on?
Thursday, September 30, 2004:
Cameron had had scans and blood work done the week prior to check the progress of the chemo or lack thereof. The scans showed no changed. However, his AFP was down to about 9,000. So…Cameron had yet another round of chemo. On a more positive note, Cameron’s liver was doing well. Progress! Thank you, thank you, thank you God!
Wednesday, October 27, 2004:
A couple of weeks ago, Cameron had gone in for scans and an AFP draw. To make a long story short, his tumors showed no changed. His AFP had gone from 19,000 to 32,000. His cancer was terminal. The cancer had not responded to treatment.
While in the hospital we had spent a lot of time talking with Cameron’s team as to next steps.
Option 1) A study at the Mayo Clinic that would have required Cameron to be hospitalized in Minnesota for five days every other week along with detrimental side effects. With that information and the fact that everything that would come along with participating in the study was everything I vowed I would not put Cameron through. In looking at quality of life issues, and what was best for Cameron, participation in the study was not an option.
Option 2) Choosing what type of chemo to use for Cameron. The choices were to either continue with the treatment as we had been doing or do oral chemo at home. After many days of tears and a lot of thought, we decided to go with the oral chemo.
Our goal for Cameron became to keep him in his home as much as possible and to ensure the time he had left with us was as "normal" as possible. I was not willing to put him through hospital stays two out of three weeks per month, severe nausea and vomiting, painful shots to boost his immune system just so he could have more chemo to start the vicious circle of torture again. God, please show me how to have the strength to endure what is to come. I know he will die. My baby, my child, my life is dying. I can’t fix this but you can! Why won’t you? I don’t understand why. Did I do something wrong? Are you punishing me for something? How can you allow a child to suffer like Cameron has? WHY?? What is the point? The purpose? I want to hate you but I can’t! Please, PLEASE help me prepare to bury my child.
Tuesday, November 9, 2004
God, please help me find peace, peace beyond all understanding that whatever Your will for Cameron's life is, that I embrace it with open arms and a peaceful heart. I can’t do this alone. I’m scared…
Thursday, November 18, 2004
WARNING: BEING VERY REAL TODAY
As you all know, Cameron's cancer is resistant to any and all treatment that would cure him which means his disease is terminal which means he will not survive.
Now, this is not new news to us. We know that as his cancer grows, his AFP will rise. October 13, his AFP was 32,000. That level was drawn November 15, last Monday. Yesterday we got those results. His AFP is now 80,000. Again, not new news but for some reason, it just hit me really hard. I guess as time goes on, this diagnosis will become more and more real. It's tough right now to imagine that inside Cameron’s little body there is so much sickness – a monster that is killing him. It’s tough to imagine because he's so NORMAL! He's more normal than he ever has been!! If you didn't know him or his story, you would never, ever know he's sick. I don't understand.
The good thing is I know Jesus is walking right along side of us. Cameron's covered and for that, I have a peace about this.
As always, please pray for Cameron, his donor families, doctors, teams, and all involved with his care.
Saturday, November 20, 2004
Things are going better here. I guess sometimes it takes awhile to swallow crappy news. I have wonderful friends that took me to lunch and 'loved me up'. So until next time...(ha-ha-ha)
Cameron is doing great. I think he and Addie were up for a total of 10 minutes before the fighting started. For some reason it's funny today. Funny seeing Cameron stick his tongue out and going mmmm-mmm, mmmm-mmm. Then Addie chimes in, "Mom, look at your son. He's sticking his tongue out at me."
"Mmmm-mmm, mmmm-mmm."
"Mahhhhh-ummm, looook at your son."
"Mmmm-mmm, mmmm-mmm. Stupid ugly head. Mmmm-mmm, mmmm-mmm."
"Mahhhh-ummm, Cameron called me stupid."
"YOU GUYS KNOCK IT OFF RIGHT NOW!!! I'VE HAD IT! ENOUGH!"
As frustrating as that may all be, I want to cherish it and remember it forever.
Thank you for lifting this family up in prayer. As hard as this has been, I cannot imagine how difficult it would be if we didn't have faith and trust in Jesus! What a cool dude!!
Please continue your prayers for Cameron, his donor families, doctors, teams, and all involved with his care.
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Cameron is in the hospital. I had noticed him being pretty much normal but just a little bit off for a few days. Sunday night I flushed his line and about an hour later he started shaking with chills, spiked a fever, and threw up twice. I called the doc and off we went to Omaha.
He had blood cultures drawn and 12 hours later, he had gram-negative rods growing. (Don't ask, I'm not too sure but it's not good.) He's responding well to antibiotics but his Monday culture was positive as well.
The plan at this point is to try to treat through it. There is only a 10% chance that we can successfully clear up the bug but because of Cameron's diagnosis and the fact that we're focusing on quality of life, we're choosing this route.
If we pulled the line, Cameron would have to have an IV. His veins aren't great because of his previous treatments so he'd be a hard stick. IVs usually last a week max, most of the time much less and when you're two and rough, you can blow them quickly. Plus, he would need blood draws every day to check the bug. And, because he'd have an IV, he'd have to stay in the hospital for as long as it's in.
This plan could change at any time depending on what his body does. I'm not excited about either option but what do you do? You have to choose what would be best for Cameron at this point in time. Tough stuff!
But with all of this, he's doing great. Marching around the hospital like he owns the place, charming everyone he comes in contact with. Yesterday he got mad at me because I scolded him for being sassy with his nurse. Cameron was upset because his nurse had put the thermometer under the wrong arm. I told him he needed to say he's sorry. He wouldn't do it so I shut the lid on his DVD player. He looked at me and gave me a very dirty look and said, "I don't like you. You are mean to me." Very, VERY funny stuff.
Please continue to pray for Cameron, his donor families, doctors, nurses, and all who care for him.
Friday, November 26, 2004
Our new plan is this. Cam got to come home for the weekend. He will go back to the hospital Monday and have his line pulled. He will then have an IV for about 3-4 days. After he's had negative cultures, he will go back into surgery to have a temporary line put in. Then he'll get to come home for two weeks on antibiotics. After that, he'll go into surgery again to get his new line put in and hopefully we'll be done with this "bug" business.
Thursday, December 9, 2004
The medals on our chests are port-a-caths for meds. Helmets won't stay on because no hair is on our heads. Our weapons of destruction we take every day. We fight the battle within us while we struggle on to play. We fight with honor and courage no marine could do as well. We are only little children living in this hell.
So bring on the medals the purple hearts of war. The gold cross, the silver star to place upon our scars. For we are the children of cancer no one has fought so hard.
But everyday we struggle on our life is our reward.
- Cheryl Jangannathan
This was sent to me by someone who saw it on another child's webpage. I thought it was very neat and very true.
Cameron is doing pretty good. He sleeps in later and gets worn out a little bit quicker than before but when he's on...HE'S ON!!! Dr. Gordon hit the nail on the head when he said Cameron has two settings. On and off.
We're going to get our Christmas tree today. The kids are excited for that. We'll be going on a hayrack ride, too. It should be fun. I guess Mommy will have to suck it up and deal with the cold!! I'm the indoor type when the temp gets below 75.
I'm struggling to have something worth while to share. I guess that's a good thing, huh? We spent last week in the hospital with the line infection thing. He's got his temp in and we'll go back in a couple of weeks to get a port put in if we can talk “liver” into doing it!! We decided we wanted the time Cam has left to do little boy things. Things like take a bath and lay in the tubby. Go swimming at Disney, no more dressing changes, etc. I don't know what the right answer is but we'll figure it out!
Please keep Cameron in your prayers. He's doing great right now. PLEASE keep the donor families in your prayers as the holiday season will be a difficult time for them.
Friday, December 31, 2004 – 4:42a
Once again it seems I can't keep up with updating this web page! It's been very, very busy around here. Lots of tough stuff going on right now.
Cameron started really slowing down the week before Christmas. It happened fast. Faster than I ever imagined. December 23 he played as he sat which is what he had been doing lately...just sitting to play not running around. Christmas Eve day he didn't move off the couch. He slept most of the day and did not want to get up to even open his gifts. The same was true for Christmas Day.
Since then, he doesn't get off the couch much. He sleeps most of the day. We've had a really hard week trying to manage his pain. He's got an incredible tolerance to pain meds. Either that or he has disease back in his liver and it's just not absorbing the medication correctly. Who knows! He didn't sleep for three days outside of cat naps here and there. Greg and I got about 5 hours or less of sleep in about 48 hours. Last night I think we actually got some rest. Not much but some!
This leg of Cameron's journey is almost over for him. His reunion is coming, the day when he has no more pain, no scars, no tears, and no fear. Greg and I feel that if he's still with us by the end of January, we'd be surprised. I don't want Cameron gone but I'm ready for him to sleep. I'm tired of seeing him suffer. So many things have changed in him yet some things have not. He's not our Cameron anymore. His joy is gone, smiles and laughing are no more. I know that Jesus is preparing a perfect place for him. He will be an excellent angel with a very big job to do.
Please continue to pray for Cameron, his doctors, nurses, sister and brother, parents, and donor families.
Wednesday, January 5, 2005 – 4:18a
Good morning! Wow...morning already. How I long for just a couple hours of sleep. I feel like sleep has become one of those luxuries you see on It's Good To Be...on E. I love it when people say, "You look so tired." Once I'd like to reply, "You know what? I know that's just your "nice" way of telling me I look like total crap. Thanks for brightening my day!!"
Cameron is still hanging in there. He's such a little fighter. We've been having a really hard time managing his pain. Seems when we think we've got his dose for pain meds figured out, that dose suddenly isn't enough.
His breathing becomes more labored every day. When he sleeps, he sounds like a barking seal. His tummy is so distended, he looks like he's pregnant. We think he's got disease back in his liver because when he does get rid of some gas and stool, you can see several hard lumps. That thought makes me want to puke. Cam fought so hard and went through so much for that perfect liver and now the cancer is devouring it.
Cameron stays on the couch 99% of the time. He is in constant pain which we are desperately trying to control. His nature is to fight, never to give up easy. I pray that he sleeps soon for I can't stand to watch him suffer much longer. I never thought I'd be longing for the death of my child. My longings for his passing are not because I'm tired or because I'm selfish or because I want my life back. I long for his passing because he hurts and he doesn't know why. He thinks this is normal. It's time for him to reap the real reward in a place where he will once again be perfect. A place where he will see that he HAS won this battle with cancer...
Soon his normal will be Jesus. Wow...can you imagine. Addie tells Cameron that in heaven you can do whatever you want. I laugh at that because she's all about doing whatever she wants. Maybe she's right...
Please continue to pray for Cameron especially that he hurts no more. Please pray for his medical teams, family, and especially for his donor families.
Friday, January 7, 2005 – 12:15a
As I write this journal entry, Cameron is happy, pain free, and will never again have to suffer at the hand of cancer.
Cameron left us just a few short hours ago. He fell into the arms of Jesus at 10:40p, January 6, 2005. I have never felt so many emotions at one time. I am so happy for Cameron. Happy that he no longer has to live in pain. Happy he is finally in heaven with Jesus. Yet I have never had such pain and heartache. I miss him already. He left us just as I prayed. From my arms to Jesus' arms. Thank you Jesus for taking Cameron from his pain and suffering.
Please continue to pray for our family. We sure have a lot of tough days ahead. Please refer to this page for Cameron's celebration of life date and time. I can't tell you enough how much we appreciate all your love and support.
Please continue to pray for Cameron's donor families and for all that fought so hard for Cameron. We love you...
Tuesday, January 11, 2005 – 11:21p
It's been five days since Cameron's passing. The days go quick yet they're so long. I'm trying to find the balance between my grief and my joy.
My grief is missing my son. I miss his smile, his face - those cheeks and beautiful eyelashes, and his gorgeous big brown eyes. I miss picking the "fuzzies" out of his perfect little toes. But my joy is knowing he spends his days with Jesus. Knowing that he no longer hurts. Cameron told us himself just hours before he died not to worry. "Don't worry daddy. Don't worry." He knew he'd be fine.
My strength comes from Christ. I can feel His love everyday. I can feel Cameron's love everyday as well. I know He's real, I know he reigns in Heaven and I know He came for Cameron the day he died. I know because Cameron told us. He said, "I see Jesus" twice - unprompted. No one was talking, he just roused, reached out his arms and said, "I see Jesus."
Thank you Jesus for letting us experience your love and grace through Cameron's illness. And thank you all for your love.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005 – 12:24a
I'm just here...usually wandering around looking at all the things I need to do yet wondering what to do.
I miss Cameron so much yet I know he's here in spirit. I know he's enjoying his time in Heaven. Can you imagine? He has met all the people we read about in the Bible. Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Dr. Luke and all the other apostles...I can't imagine how excited he is for our arrival so he can introduce us to all the wonderful people he's met. I just hope he's not calling everyone a "stupid-ugly-head" and sticking his tongue out at them. What a crazy kid he is!!
Please keep our family in your prayers as well as the donor families, Cameron's medical teams and all who love and cared for Cameron -- we miss him so much!!
You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy, that I might sing praises to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever!
Psalm 30:11-12
(The theme of Psalm 30 is as follows. It's a celebration of God's deliverance. Earthly security is uncertain, but God is always faithful.)
Tuesday, January 25, 2005 – 2:02p
I wanted to share with you a song my brother, Seth, wrote on his way back to Cheyenne after Cameron's funeral. It came to him as he was driving down I-80 and he wrote it down on paper AS he was driving. It was done in about 10 minutes. Thanks, Seth, for putting our feelings into a song. I know Cameron's "kickin' down the door."
10 Months
It was cold dark night and you were holdin' me tight/I was livin' in hell and goin' down with a fight then I took Your hand, I wish that you could of seen it/Well I'll be ok Daddy, don't you go cry for me
Well I ran with Him down the tunnel of light/Skippin' and laughing man it just felt right/You've got nothin' but smiles from me up above/That's the way it goes when you're livin' now with nothin' but love
Cause I'm partyin' on like never before/It took me ten long months now I'm kickin' down the door/Don't you worry 'bout me ya know I'm doin' just fine/Keep your head above the water/You've got nothin' but time
Now I'm lookin' down at all the tears that are fallin'/Don't you rant and rave 'cause soon you'll get your callin'/But before that time, you've gotta live like you're free/Mommy and Daddy I don't want you crying for me
Cause I'm partyin' on like never before/It took me ten long months now I'm kickin' down the door/Don't worry 'bout me/Ya know I'm doin' just fine/Keep your head above the water/You've got nothin' but time
Cause you're partyin' on like never before/It took ya ten long months now you've finally kicked down that door/I'm not worrying about you now, know you'll be just fine/Keep your heads above the water, keep your heads above the water, keep your heads above the water/You've got nothin' but time
Already almost the end of January. I always say that. Almost the end of...or it's already. Time really flies by quick.
We still are holding up well. I visited UNMC yesterday and got to see a lot of friends. I was happy to have been able to go there yet it was so hard. I didn't realize until I had left how hard it was to be there. I think a part of me feels such a connection because of the time we spent there with Cameron. I guess at this point, I don't know anything else. Time will heal that. It's just hard figuring out what normal is. I guess it's darkest just before dawn so maybe all of this is normal. While I feel like I'm doing well, I miss Cameron more every day and my heart hurts just a little bit more. I suppose I'm just selfish. I mean what more could I possibly have to offer him here? He's with Jesus...in Heaven. I just miss him is all.
Friday, March 11, 2005 – 4:53p
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CAMERON!!!
We hope you enjoyed all the balloons we sent your way today. We know you're having the best birthday ever. We love you and miss you so very much, buddy.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Life consistently throws us curveballs. My opinion is we can either be mad, hate the world and be a victim OR we can embrace those curveballs and use them for good, use them to glorify God, to teach those around us that even in the midst of tragedy, God’s promise is real. His promise stands and will ALWAYS prevail.
People often ask me how I have survived the loss of a child. I survived through God’s unending grace and love, through His promise, through His son, Jesus Christ. The day Cameron died, God gave me the greatest gift, one that has resonated in every thought I have, every day. Cameron had become unresponsive and was very close to death. Just hours before he died, he began to stir on the couch. Although he never woke up, never opened his eyes; he stretched out his arms and said, “I see Jesus!” – twice! My reply to him was, “You go with Him, Cameron.” If I ever doubted this “story of Jesus”, if I ever wondered whether or not this guy actually existed as the Bible says; after that moment I have never doubted again – not once!
God knows what we need. He knows when. He knows how. Am I sad and broken to have lost such a glorious, beautiful child? Of course! But my child had a PURPOSE here on earth and continues to have a purpose in Heaven. As a parent the one and only thing we want for our children if for them to be successful, safe and live out their purpose. Well…my kid lives with Jesus!
Two Bible verses carried me through Cameron’s illness and death, through my hurt, through my inability to understand, through my grief and through my healing. May the glory of God shine through to you in these simple promises:
Jeremiah 29:11
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Proverbs 3:5-6
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not to your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your path straight.”
