Our reality was uncertain as we watched the nurses wheel our precious 14 year old through the operating doors for his third brain surgery in four days.

We wanted to put our full trust in our son’s neurosurgeon, but he admitted to us that he didn't know what was going on with our son's brain.

In those hours of unrest, God invited me to find peace, not through confidence in the doctor's skill, but through quiet surrender in the hospital chapel. There, I discovered a handout that spoke directly to me, titled “Jesus, Your Shepherd, Leads You” by Richard Aplingtom. It read:

“I am very much aware of the trials that you face, of each of your difficult moments. They have come about with my permission. Do you know that it is through these very trials that I hope to strengthen you? With your human eyes you can see only what seem to be impossible tasks, things beyond your power, hopeless dilemmas. 

But there is hope... 

(Jesus) is the Good Shepherd who will lead you, my sheep, to green pastures. In dark storms he will shelter you in a safe place. In the dry desolate wasteland he will lead you to springs of life-giving waters. Never, not for a moment, will he leave you alone, untended. 

If you get caught in a snare, he will gently untangle you. If you are tired, weary, distressed, or afraid, he will hold you close to his bosom. If you have fallen and hurt yourself, he will lift you gently to his shoulders and carry you. He will be your peace.”

When the doctor then shared his post-surgery report with us, I felt prepared to hear the terrible word “tumor.” But when we received the diagnosis/prognosis from the oncologist 10 days later, I felt grateful to hear “very treatable” describe our son's specific type of brain cancer. 

And now, during the rough days of chemo, I'm seeking strength by repenting from worry. I'm finding rest, quietness, and trust not in treatment plans or statistics but in our great Shepherd and Healer. It is through Him that we are saved.