There are moments in a cancer journey when strength runs out — when faith is tested not by doubt, but by unbearable love. This is one of those moments for the family of Will Roberts.
Watching her firstborn endure relentless pain — pain that is now stealing his ability to walk again — has left Will’s mother aching in ways words can barely describe. The disease has left scars on a body once whole, scars that photos cannot capture, scars that tell a story no parent should ever have to witness.
To the outside world, pictures may still show two healthy children. But inside this home, there is a quiet suffering — a pain that lives beneath the surface, carried in every step, every breath, every prayer whispered through tears.
The weight is heavy on everyone who loves Will.
His father, Jason, tries to remain strong, holding the family together while pouring every ounce of love he has into his son. Watching him carry this burden — and imagining the heartbreak that could come — is a fear so deep it steals breath.
Will’s grandmother shows up every day, loving him fiercely, helping however she can, even as the thought of losing him would shatter her own heart. Seeing her pain compounds the grief already present.
In the quiet of the night, when strength is gone, the prayers become raw and honest.
“Jesus, please stay close,” his mother prays.
“I don’t have the strength without You. My family needs You. We need a miracle. I need a peace only You can give. I need blessed assurance.”
This is the unseen side of childhood cancer — not just the procedures and pain, but the emotional and spiritual toll on families who love fiercely and believe deeply.
Tonight, the Roberts family asks for prayers — not just for healing, but for peace, strength, and the miracle they are desperately hoping for.
