1. The Moment Breath Stands Still
There are moments in life where time seems to freeze, and the air around you grows so thin that you feel like you are suffocating. That was the sensation I felt today while looking at Will’s PET scan.
You can hear doctors talk about the progression of a disease a thousand times, but when you see it with your own eyes—the glowing evidence of just how far the cancer has spread—it is a direct strike to the soul. I was numb. The words I have dreaded, the dark scenarios I have tried to push into the corners of my mind for so long, were suddenly laid bare. It was no longer a possibility; it was reality. A reality so brutal that it took the very oxygen out of my lungs.
2. The Heavy Wait and the Nameless Fear
Right now, we are sitting in a suffocating silence, waiting for the results of an MRI. A new fear has crashed over us: Could the pain in Will’s back be caused by a tumor pressing against his spinal cord?
Just typing those words makes me feel physically sick. It is a mother’s deepest dread—watching the “enemy” target her son’s spine, the very thing that allows him to stand tall and walk. In this long, heavy wait, I feel like a small piece of wood tossed about in a vast ocean, with nothing to cling to but prayer. This fear is indescribable; it seeps into your skin, it makes your fingers tremble, and it can only be soothed by faith.
3. “My God is Still Bigger”
But even as the shadows of the scans seem to overwhelm everything, I must stand up and declare: My God is still BIGGER.
My faith is not built on perfect lab results. It is built on the truth that He is the Giver of Life. I pray for a miracle—a healing so complete that science must bow its head. But, I am also bold enough to pray this: If He chooses not to move this mountain in the way we hope, then I pray for the sweetest, most quality-filled days for Will.
I pray for days full of laughter, days where he can still move, climb, and live every second to the fullest. I pray that the light from Will’s soul continues to shine so brightly that everyone around him feels his joy, even when his own body is in pain.
4. The Painful Contrast and Profound Gratitude
The hardest part for me right now is simply looking at Will. I see a boy who is still so full of life, who still knows how to laugh, who is still the “Will” I have always loved. It is heart-breaking to accept that a being so radiant is being eaten away by something invisible to the naked eye. The contrast between his hopeful spirit and the darkness of a PET scan is enough to break anyone.
But then, I see him climb a ladder, I see him walk, and I realize I have every reason to be thankful. Thank You, God, for giving him back his mobility. Thank You for giving us more memories to hold onto. His body is still choosing to fight; every cell in him hungers for life, regardless of what the machines say.
5. Living Radically Until the Very Last Breath
We do not know what tomorrow will bring. We do not know if the MRI results will bring more devastating news. But there is one thing for certain: Until God says “No,” we will live this life wide open.
We will not let cancer define the days we have left. We will live with purpose, love, and gratitude for every single breath. Every morning that I wake up and find him beside me, every time I see him smile—that is a victory.
To everyone watching: please stay on this journey with Will. Pray for his peace, pray for his body to find extra strength, and pray that the MRI results do not force us into impossible decisions. Pray for the beautiful days that are still ahead of us.
We are marching forth, even today, with hearts that may be bleeding but remain anchored in faith. We know Who holds the future, and He is bigger than any fear this world can throw at us.
Closing Message for Social Media:
“Lord, fill this room with Your presence. Grant Will the strength to fight and the peace to rest. We trust that You are bigger than every scan and every fear. In Jesus’ name, Amen.” 🙏✨
#PrayForWill #GodIsBigger #FaithOverFear #WillRoberts #MarchingForth #MiracleNeeded #ChildhoodCancerWarrior
