You guys can tell by now that our family loves to sing. Ethan often leads us in this charge - asking us to sing his favorite songs or play a certain song in the car while we are driving pretty much anywhere.
It was probably about a month ago when Ethan and I were on our way to his scheduled chemo and sedation for intrathecal chemo at the hospital, when I noticed a big theme in all of the songs that Ethan selected: each song was about the immense love of God. (His playlist that day included two revamped hymns we sing at our church: What Wondrous Love is This and The Love of God, and Oh How He Love Us by The David Crowder Band). I remember thinking, my five year old just created a worship set - holy cats, what a gift!
It's no secret that the last couple of months have been rougher than we've experienced in a while. Ethan has experienced an uptick in chemo symptoms, been neutropenic twice, had two blood transfusions, a day in the ICU, and a 3 day hospital stay. This all on top of his regular medicines, appointments, infusions, and just daily life of school and home.
Which is why I'm sort of marveling that my son continually wants to sing about the love of God. In the muck and trenches, it's had me thinking. A lot.
Hang with me, while I try to explain.
Throughout this journey one of the things that I've been grateful for is an overwhelming sense of God's sovereignty. That He's bigger than this. The He knows everything. He knew that this was going to happen. He knows all that is to come. It's brought such a sense of security and hope - knowing that God is in control of this. That aspect of His character has been a strong foundation and a place of rest in this journey. God is sovereign and He's got this.
And then there's the daily experience of watching my son endure this suffering. Trying to help him get through this. Watching this boy and his amazing resilience and walking with him on the good days and the days that are just tough. Knowing what helps one day, and then feeling like I don't know anything. Navigating the waters of what things to share and bring people into, and what to keep close to our hearts. This journey just isn't easy, and there is no roadmap for what to do at each turn.
I sent a sort of desperate text to my sister recently on a particularly hard day, telling her that there are just days that I want to scream. At the top of my lungs, just scream about it all - how I wish this wasn't a part of my boy's story, how I wish God could just take it away, how hard it is.
And my sister replied with a reminder of what my friend Evie told me at the very beginning of this whole journey - that I can't do this. That it will be God's strength, His endurance, His power that will get me through.
And then she said: But you know that you can scream to God, Melissa.
And you guys. I sat on the couch and experienced God's love in a whole new, deeply personal way that is hard to even put to words. As I started to pray and ask that God meet me, I had the most overwhelming image of God, my Father, wanting me to just come to Him. To be with Him. To sit on His lap and to just tell Him how I felt. To tell him how my heart ached for my boy. To just cry about it with my Father and just be in His presence. There was no doubt in my mind that my Father just wanted to be with me and to know my heart.
You guys, that is the love of God. He showed me in those moments that He is a God who longs for intimacy with me, and with his people. That He is a deeply personal God who wants to know my heart. He is the big God who is sovereign over all of creation, and yet He knows each one of our hearts. It's amazing. It's that love that sent Jesus to die. That God the Father actually sent his only son to die, that we might be saved. That Jesus loved us so much that He was willing to die.
That is the love that I want to forever keep singing about. What I want my children to know in the deepest parts of their hearts. What I want you to know. That God's love is real. It's powerful.
And it's the reason that we sing.
And so I'll leave you with, what else? A song. Of the three songs that Ethan and I sang on the way to the hospital that day - The Love of God stood out and has been playing in my head on and off ever since. Take a listen. It'll be worth your time.
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry
Nor could the scroll contain the whole
Though stretched from sky to sky
