"Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done."
The prayer of our hearts for two years: Father, please. Please. PLEASE! Take this cup from us. Heal Ryan. Please restore him to health. Please give us normalcy again. Please do not let him go from this earth too soon.
But Lord, we do trust you. We know Your character, and we know Your truth. We stand on that knowledge, and that knowledge coupled with Your enveloping grace, are the only cards we have to play. So Lord, we ask that Your will would be done, because we trust that even though it doesn't make sense on this side of eternity, somehow these plans are meant to prosper us (and to further Your kingdom, more importantly) and not to harm us.
I imagine that as Jesus prayed that prayer in the garden of Gethsemane, that he was probably feeling a lot like we are right now. Dreading what lay ahead. But yet also peacefully resigned to the will of the Lord.
You see, friends, we have been grappling with our own future this week, much the same way that Jesus grappled with his. My blog post last Monday was almost triumphant in nature. That was the tone of the day. Things were looking up. We were going to get out of the hospital. Bleeding had stopped. Our oncologist was starting to talk about the possibility of doing more treatments in the future. We were ecstatic.
And then the bleeding started again. In earnest.
And our doctor, full of compassion and concern, told us last Tuesday the words that we have so dreaded hearing. We are out of options. We have done everything that we can do to save Ryan's life. It was now time to go home and enjoy what time we have left. And that time is probably better measured in days and weeks than in months.
We have always wanted to keep this community, you, our support network, as up to date as possible, but facing what seems to be approaching has been difficult. We needed time to process. I do hope you'll understand why we haven't been forthcoming with this news - it has ripped our hearts to shreds and we have struggled with how and when to tell all of you. I know that this post is going to be a tremendous letdown for literally thousands of people, and I so wish that I had better news to bring.
Thank you for the grace, love, and support you have shown our family for now over two years. Please pray with us for courage, comfort and peace right now. We continue to place our hope in the Lord, and we always will.
We love you.