A couple days ago, my mom sent me an email about a family with five children, four of which have juvenile arthritis. The article described how the family manages their childrens' JA on a daily basis. At the end of the article, the dad describes how when they are at the Mayo Clinic they "see kids who are in real tough shape”. He takes comfort in the fact that his children don’t have a worse illness. My mom wanted me to take comfort in this fact as well. There are worse things out there. This I know.
Enter Matthew.
When we became members of our church, there was a 6 year old little boy named Matthew who had been battling Neuroblastoma cancer since he was 3. Every Sunday, prayers were requested for this adorable little boy's healing. Some Sundays the news was promising - it looked like the treatments were working. Oh, what a joy it was to see him going up to hear the childrens' sermon, clutching one of many stuffed animals he owned. The church rallied around his family.
I once had a conversation with Matthew's mom about our experiences with cancer and diabetes. I confessed that we told we told Chase that there were worse things in the world to have, like cancer. She admitted that once, when Matthew was fighting getting a shot, she told him that some kids are diabetic and have to take multiple daily shots. I found this painfully ironic.
Sadly, after a 5 year battle with cancer, at the age of 8, Matthew lost his battle. My son is now 8 years old.
When I was 8, I remember how I loved to go outside, lay on the picnic table and gaze up at the stars. To this day, I still love to look at the stars. Life, though, has made me see them differently. Now, when I look up, I think of the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, "When it's darkest, men see the stars."
The darkness of cancer has made me see the light in diabetes. I have my son by my side. This light I do not take for granted.
It lights my universe.
May everyone who is fighting a battle see the stars through the darkness.
