Carly Meservey
Meet Carly Meservey.
My faith walk is embedded into my very earliest memories; I’ve enjoyed a closeness with Jesus as far back as I can remember. As I age, I recognize more and more the uniqueness of that scenario, but I also see now how God was using those years to prepare me for the journey ahead.
I was thrilled when I became a mom after years of longing, but my world turned upside down at his four-month well-visit when I first heard the word that every parent dread and would sadly become our new normal: cancer. Our infant son was diagnosed with bilateral retinoblastoma, a rare childhood cancer that produces inoperable tumors on the retinas and sometimes the brain of very young children; he began chemotherapy three days after diagnosis. And then we watched our son suffer.
My nursery became a nurse’s station, our play dates became long days and nights at the hospital and months of seclusion to keep him healthy. Through it all my son smiled, but my heart was heavy. I had unanswered questions and was burdened with guilt not knowing if I had unintentionally caused the cancer during pregnancy. Yet there was the undeniable presence of peace. The kind of peace that doesn’t make sense. And I knew that the God who had loved me and befriended me from my earliest days was right there beside me, wrapping His arms around me, helping me find joy in our sorrow and guiding me every step of the way.
The future is uncertain. Sam’s cancer journey began almost exactly five years ago and while I can’t say I’m glad he had to go through it, I can now look back and see with clarity the many miracles God performed through it all. He has seen us through systemic chemotherapy, nearly 100 exams under anesthesia, chemo injections into the eye, a terrifying retinal detachment that threatened eye removal and thankfully a move across Texas to better hospitals (and an amazing church). Secondary cancers loom on the horizon. With his genetic predisposition, his chances of more cancer increase 1% with every year of life. Yet, instead of living in fear, we strive to enjoy every day, and we daily thank Him for healing and pray for protection over every cell in Sam’s body.
The future is uncertain, but I know he is in God’s hands, so why shouldn’t it also be bright?
“Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.” -Corrie Ten Boom
My faith walk is embedded into my very earliest memories; I’ve enjoyed a closeness with Jesus as far back as I can remember. As I age, I recognize more and more the uniqueness of that scenario, but I also see now how God was using those years to prepare me for the journey ahead.
I was thrilled when I became a mom after years of longing, but my world turned upside down at his four-month well-visit when I first heard the word that every parent dread and would sadly become our new normal: cancer. Our infant son was diagnosed with bilateral retinoblastoma, a rare childhood cancer that produces inoperable tumors on the retinas and sometimes the brain of very young children; he began chemotherapy three days after diagnosis. And then we watched our son suffer.
My nursery became a nurse’s station, our play dates became long days and nights at the hospital and months of seclusion to keep him healthy. Through it all my son smiled, but my heart was heavy. I had unanswered questions and was burdened with guilt not knowing if I had unintentionally caused the cancer during pregnancy. Yet there was the undeniable presence of peace. The kind of peace that doesn’t make sense. And I knew that the God who had loved me and befriended me from my earliest days was right there beside me, wrapping His arms around me, helping me find joy in our sorrow and guiding me every step of the way.
The future is uncertain. Sam’s cancer journey began almost exactly five years ago and while I can’t say I’m glad he had to go through it, I can now look back and see with clarity the many miracles God performed through it all. He has seen us through systemic chemotherapy, nearly 100 exams under anesthesia, chemo injections into the eye, a terrifying retinal detachment that threatened eye removal and thankfully a move across Texas to better hospitals (and an amazing church). Secondary cancers loom on the horizon. With his genetic predisposition, his chances of more cancer increase 1% with every year of life. Yet, instead of living in fear, we strive to enjoy every day, and we daily thank Him for healing and pray for protection over every cell in Sam’s body.
The future is uncertain, but I know he is in God’s hands, so why shouldn’t it also be bright?
“Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.” -Corrie Ten Boom
Posted in Faces of Faith