A Scare
We had one.
It was a week of waiting — waiting for a re-test.
And in the waiting, I couldn’t help but feel a little anxious. (Isaiah 40:31 was a true comfort)
I’m sure your mind would race at the thought of a scare. And as Calista taught our family about hyperboles last week, the one that stuck most in this moment was: “My mind raced a million miles an hour.”
It began last week when Murphy had a heart scan. It could have been cause for concern, but he aced that. It was actually a routine blood test that produced some unusual results.
After reviewing Murphy’s height and weight, the oncologist referred him to an endocrinologist (yep — another title I didn’t think I’d need to know in life…). Murphy hasn’t grown enough for the team to be satisfied, so further tests are needed to determine the best course of action. (Insert prayer point here.)
But that wasn’t the scare.
It was the blood panel that followed.
Like most visits, a few milliliters were drawn, and results were produced shortly after. Because Murphy had several tests done that day, Nat was still at the hospital when the results came back. Later that afternoon, she was brought into a room to talk through them.
As Nat sat there, the doctor explained that Murphy had a marker in his blood showing four times the normal amount of bone growth. Coupled with the fact that Murphy hasn’t physically grown, this reading could mean one of two things:
A mistake…
Or a form of bone cancer.
A scare.
A heart-stopping moment.
Words you never want to hear.
We knew this day might come. We’ve signed countless consent forms for dozens of drugs — some with “another cancer”listed as a possible side effect. But bone cancer? That came out of left field.
Trying not to panic, Nat left the appointment and called me on her way home.
Instantly, the words “It can’t be” echoed through my mind. That night, while driving, I prayed — calling out to God, declaring that Murphy’s fight with cancer was done.
Fast-forward a week.
Nat and I brought very few people into this space. We didn’t want to cause panic. But we did share with family, and we leaned hard on God for strength and peace.
This week, Murphy was re-tested.
And I can now share this: the doctor could hardly believe it. The results had come down significantly, and there is no concern that this is cancer.
In fact, this could simply be Murphy’s body finally trying to GROW taller.
No scare.
Happy tears.
Victory — again.
Thank You, Jesus.
Overall, this past month has been a FULL one.
Nat and I flew to Australia to secure a visa — over 40 hours of flight time for a three-minute interaction at the consulate in Sydney! Thankfully, it was successful. We’ve been granted a new two-year visa, allowing Murphy to continue care with his team and giving our kids two more years in their current schooling system.
The trip also allowed us to see family and friends, to share stories, and to testify to what God continues to do in Murphy’s life — and in ours. It’s always a joy to raise faith.
From the relief of securing our visa, to the tension of waiting for results, the past few weeks have brought both highs and lows. But it’s comforting to know that our God does not change — and because He doesn’t change, He is always present to help and to comfort.
In the coming weeks, we’ll have family visiting over the Christmas break, so keep an eye out for photos soon.
Thank you for your love, prayers, and continued support.
With gratitude,
Daniel
