As we finish up a very Blessed Resurrection Sunday that we got to spend out of the hospital, I am realizing that (once again) I may have left out some important details. I’ve been asked quite a few times already, “What were the results from the Day 29 testing this past Friday?” Unfortunately, we don’t know yet, and won’t know anything until we sit down with Delaney’s doctor this coming Tuesday. We’ll keep you posted.
Another question we get a lot is, “How is Delaney doing today?” I’ll be the first one to admit that I originally thought that we were going to have to take this whole leukemia thing day by day. What I am quickly learning is that we need to take it hour by hour and minute by minute. So now when I get the question (which I do appreciate by the way) of how Delaney is doing today, I usually answer with, “Well, right now she is ________.”
An unexpected blessing that has come out of all of this whole (non) adventure is some of the people that we have got to meet. I’d like to tell you about two of them real quick, but before I get all Ned Flanders on you, I’ll remind you what Principal Skinner said to an angry Superintendent Chalmers, “I know Weinstein’s parents were upset, but it sounded so made-up. I mean, Yom Kippur….”
Some of you don’t think that I take religion seriously enough. That is not my intent, as I realize there are people all over the world being persecuted just because they share the same faith I do. However, in spite of all my dumb jokes, I do take my relationship with Jesus very seriously. I am realizing that I only have two hours of Easter left in which even the heathens among you, will (hopefully) extend me a little extra grace so I better hurry up and introduce you to my new friends.
Frank and Angelo are a father and son, who I had the pleasure of meeting at Children’s Hospital a month ago, and then we saw them again on Friday. Angelo is seventeen years old, is very well mannered, seems wise beyond his years, and has cancer. Six months ago, the doctors informed Frank that his son’s cancer in his back was incurable. Angelo had a scan of his back again a couple of weeks ago, and the doctors couldn’t find any cancer. What does that mean? Has he been miraculously cured? I don’t know and that isn’t what I am saying. Angelo still has cancer, but the specific cancer that the doctors deemed incurable, is no longer showing up on any of their scans or tests. I’ll just pass along words of wisdom from Angelo’s dad, Frank, “God is in control.”
When I first met Frank he shared with me that even the commuting back and forth to all the doctors appointments has been a blessing. During one of those trips, Angelo told his dad, “I don’t want to upset you, but I don’t know if I even believe in God anymore.” They discussed it openly for a while and Angelo suggested that maybe if he had some sort of sign, it would be easier for him to believe in a God he couldn’t see. Frank suggested that at the next red light, that they just take a minute to pray, and literally ask that God would send a sign for his son Angelo. A few minutes later, they hit a red light so they did just that. When their prayer was over, they opened their eyes as a truck pulled up on their left. Frank pulled out his phone to quickly snap the picture below. Happy Easter!