One year ago today, I sat waiting in a doctor’s office with my 4-year-old son William.  He joyfully played with a dinosaur sticker book while I sat in silence trying to hold back tears and just breathe.  We were waiting for results of a biopsy we had done on a large mass in William’s knee.  It had been two months of him being unable to walk, doctors’ offices, MRIs, a biopsy and waiting.

Time had become my enemy.  Just nine months earlier, my husband had died.  In a lot of ways, those nine months had felt like nine years.  Nine years of going to bed alone every night, raising our kids alone, and grief.  But at the same time, it seemed like my husband had just died nine days ago.  The grief was still so raw.  How could there be more grief coming?  Would I have to watch my little boy die, just like I had watched his daddy die?  It just seemed like too much…

One year ago today, my little boy was diagnosed with osteosarcoma – bone cancer.  Hearing the doctor’s words left me speechless.  I didn’t cry, scream or really react at all.  On the outside I was calm and strong.  But on the inside, darkness fell.  I couldn’t believe God was bringing more suffering and tragedy into our lives.

The doctor insisted on a second opinion.  He sent all of William’s tests to the Mayo clinic and asked me to wait another week.  Another week!  Another week of not fighting this disease that was trying to steal his life.  It made me angry.  I did not want to wait.  I wanted to fight.  I wanted to do everything possible to save my son’s life.  To me, waiting was like allowing death to move closer.  And I wanted nothing of that.  But I wasn’t given much of a choice…

Over the next three days, we would wait.  The waiting was dark.  I did not have hope.  I would research bone cancer and cry.  I would buy books on how to explain cancer to a child.  I would begin making a plan on how to help my son through chemo, surgeries and lots of time at the hospital.  I would try to make myself okay with the possibility of an amputation.  And I would pray.  My prayers were a mess.  There were no eloquent phrases.  In fact, all there really was was a deep groaning of my soul that the Holy Spirit took before God.  And amidst the tears and groaning, there was a very quiet whisper of “Your will be done.”

One year ago today was the darkest day of my life.  This widow was dealt a blow that she could not handle.  And it was one of the most loving things that God could have done.  Because God used the darkness to show me just how good the light was.  After three days of darkness and waiting, God shone a light into my heart that brought me to my knees.  On December 30, the doctor called.  William’s original diagnosis was wrong.  He did not have bone cancer.  The mass was benign.  He would need surgery and nothing more.  No chemo.  No amputation.  There was no cancer.

Throughout this whole ordeal, God was so good.  In the waiting, He was helping me learn to trust Him more.  He was reminding me of His sovereignty over our lives.  In the darkness, He was revealing the darkness of the sin in my heart.  He was showing me how generous and faithful He was.  He was reminding me that this life, this place is not my real home – He has something far better for me.  And if there would have been no second diagnosis, if William did have bone cancer, God would still be good.  He would show us His faithfulness to carry us through suffering and teach us to rely on Him.  He would continue to strip our affections from things of this world and attach them to Him.

One year ago today, God wrecked my heart.  He took me to a very dark place and asked me to wait in it.  And I am so very, very thankful.

“I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness.” John 12:46

Have you been wrecked by God? Share how He brought hope into your darkness.