For Joey;
All of us know grief.
This world and this life are filled with it – for some more than others
it seems but we have all been touched by it in some way. I have lost immediate family members and been
close to many others who have as well – even just this past weekend. I know the grief that feels like a 200 pound
weight on your chest and wrap your soul in a darkness that seems both
unbearable and inescapable - but I don’t know what it’s like to lose a
child.
Unfortunately, I have imagined it a thousand times - probably more like two thousand actually, but I'm not counting. About a year or so after my son Daniel was born, I began having nightmares about losing him – not just here and there but every night! They were terrible, graphic, vivid dreams about not being able to save my son and having to watch him die. I would wake up each morning in a cold sweat and shaking from having experienced some new and horrifying way of losing my son that was somehow my fault. Every gray hair I currently have appeared over the next few years, not as a result of having a son – being a parent – but as a direct result of those dreams of losing him I am convinced. There was a lot going on spiritually that I won’t take the time to go into here, but let’s just say the warfare was intense, and I now have a lot of gray hairs to prove it.
Until those dreams started, I had never experienced any fear, horror, or grief like I did during those thoughts and dreams. For the several years that it lasted, it was the darkest and most difficult period of my life … until January 2012 … when Daniel was diagnosed with cancer. I tried to describe a bit of what I was feeling in those early blog posts. It had been awhile since I had finally overcome the bulk of the nightmares, but suddenly every one of them came back home to roost in that moment sitting in the recovery room with the doctor and the test results. The initial estimates were for a 65% chance of “successful treatment”. My ears roared, my vision closed in, my heart pounded, my stomach flipped, my throat closed up, my soul screamed in agony, and the world stopped turning
Though there were several ups and downs in the early days of his diagnosis and treatment, we eventually discovered that his form of leukemia was in fact one with a much higher (around 90-95%) success rate and the clouds began to clear a little. Yet 2012 has been a year filled with constant wrestling against fear and struggling to hold on to faith and learning to trust God for every single second. I watched my mom die a long and painful death from cancer the year I graduated college. I've watched aunts, uncles, cousins, my mother-in-law go through it - some successfully, some not. My wife Andrea was diagnosed with leukemia in 2010 and then my only son Daniel in 2012.
I hate cancer!
Though there were several ups and downs in the early days of his diagnosis and treatment, we eventually discovered that his form of leukemia was in fact one with a much higher (around 90-95%) success rate and the clouds began to clear a little. Yet 2012 has been a year filled with constant wrestling against fear and struggling to hold on to faith and learning to trust God for every single second. I watched my mom die a long and painful death from cancer the year I graduated college. I've watched aunts, uncles, cousins, my mother-in-law go through it - some successfully, some not. My wife Andrea was diagnosed with leukemia in 2010 and then my only son Daniel in 2012.
I hate cancer!
As my world began to spin again - in an entirely new direction - one filled with oncologists and hematologists and a new language of medical terms and procedures and protocols and charts - I found myself immersed again in the world of cancer and the people affected by it.
It was then that I met the Kellers and their son Joey. As it happened, Daniel and Andrea had already known Joey and Elizabeth for some months. Daniel and Joey had shared classes together at our homeschool co-op and Andrea knew Elizabeth from there as well. As we began to cross paths more often at the hospital - both as in-patients and at the out-patient clinic, I got to know Joey and Elizabeth and eventually Nick, Joey's father. Nick and I hit it off immediately. We recognized in one another the same depth of passion, compassion, and willingness to do anything to save the lives of our sons. Andrea and Elizabeth shared the same kind of connection as mothers.
I'll not tell the much more of the story here except to say that the four of us discovered in one another not only a deep love for God and His Word, but also a shared journey ... a quest ... to learn all we could about how to appropriate God's supernatural healing power for the sake of our families. Though we didn't often get a chance to talk face-to-face, when we did we often commented on each other's blog posts, shared experiences, compared notes about what other people said and did and their comments, etc. Without really knowing one another that well, we became very close in a way that I believe only God can orchestrate.
As late Summer and early Fall of 2012 began, Joey began to have serious problems again. We prayed and prayed and prayed. Joey, Nick, and Elizabeth and all they were going through grabbed my heart and wouldn't let go. When Joey started having seizures in late September, I organized on-line round-the-clock prayer vigils for him and we saw truly amazing - I believe "miraculous" - results. Dozens if not hundreds of people and families and prayer groups were praying for Joey constantly. My own family - the 3 of us - were praying together with fervency and regularity like never before. And for awhile, Joey rallied and we hoped and prayed hard and believed that God would grant our thousands upon thousands of requests, and spare Joey's life from this awful disease.
But in the end, it was not to be. If human beings could, by force of will, influence the health of another, or if there were some inherent power in prayer itself, Joey would most certainly still be with us today. But prayer is never about changing God's mind or somehow "forcing" God's will to bend to our own - though many seem to think this is so. The Word tells us to ask God for what we want and to "pray believing" that He will grant us what we ask, but it is abundantly clear that God is sovereign and perfect in His wisdom and knowledge and power as well as his grace and love. The Word is clear that God always does what is right and best and good, whether we understand it or not. In this case, it is now clear that God's will was to "graduate" Joey from this life to his reward far sooner than we all would have liked. And as absolutely heart-wrenching as it was to lose Joey, all those of us who know the Lord are, despite the grief, immeasurably happy for Joey and the perfect, "ultimate" healing that God granted him. Shortly after the news of his loss, I found a picture through which God spoke directly to my heart and brought me some measure of peace for Joey. Actually, I found several, but this one in particular ministered to me powerfully and continues to do so. I still cannot look at it without breaking down. It allowed me to "release" him into the arms of my Lord and to find some measure of peace and even joy for Joey's sake.
However, with that said, I can also state that this has been one of the 2 or 3 worst weeks of my entire life. Because although I can actually bring myself to be happy for Joey, my heart is tied so very deeply to Nick and Elizabeth and their parents that I have felt utterly devastated - crushed under the weight of their loss and the future they must move into without their precious little boy. I'd like to say I cannot imagine what they're going through, but the fact is, I have imagined it - a thousand times. And yet I know that even my worst nightmares can never compare to the reality our friends are going through. After all, I woke up from every nightmare I ever had. Yet there is such a deep connection to their journey, their faith, their struggles, and their loss, that I was barely able to function for days afterward and still find myself in tears as often as not. I wish there were something - anything - I could do to ease their pain, to share the load of their burden, or to bring comfort to them in these dark hours. But only God can do that, and so I continue to pray ... for their comfort, peace, strength, courage, and faith to remain strong. We remain committed to the Kellers and their parents to stand with them, pray for them, and serve them in any way that we might be able. And though I realize that they will never fully recover from being separated from their son so early and in such a terrible fashion, we do pray that the Lord will bind up their broken hearts, wipe away their tears, strengthen their marriage and their relationship to Him, and help them to find a positive way to honor Joey's memory and legacy until they are reunited with him again.
Were Our Prayers in Vain?
No. Absolutely not. No prayer of honest concern and desire to help another is ever given in vain. And no prayer by one who belongs to the Lord goes unheard. Though I do remain confused about some of the things I had believed that I and others (including Joey Himself) heard about God's intent to heal Joey back to health in this world, I also believe that our prayers were effective in many ways in God's plan. Without question (in my mind) we saw God answer our prayers for Joey MANY times over the past year (and many others have been praying for Joey much longer than that). We saw cancer disappear from his MRI scans entirely. We saw him healed from the seizures despite the medical staff stating that they didn't know what was causing it and didn't know what to do for him. We saw him rally back multiple times in multiple ways over the course of these last several months and I believe that in each of those cases, God was working through the many, many prayers of the faithful being offered on Joey's behalf. I know that I personally felt a strong burden for prayer and was, like several others, awakened even during the night to pray for Joey and his parents during particularly difficult times. For me personally, it really wasn't until the last few days that I even had any trouble praying with faith that God was going to continue to heal Joey and keep him with us. I don't know or understand what changed at the end. Perhaps someday we will, perhaps not. But I am tremendously happy and blessed to have had the privilege of having been burdened for Joey these past several months and to have put in the many hours of prayer on his behalf. I believe every one of the prayers offered by members of Team Joey were effective and used to Joey's benefit and God's glory. And ultimately, God provided Joey with a perfect healing from his suffering and disease in a way he could never have enjoyed in this life.
How I Knew, And Will Remember Joey:
I regret that I never knew Joey when he was healthy. The only images I have of him are without any hair and most often in a hospital bed or wheel chair. But far stronger than those images of his illness, are the impressions I have of his maturity, especially spiritually. Through my own direct experience as well as through conversations with Nick and Elizabeth and their parents, and through Nick's various CaringBridge and Facebook posts, I came to realize that Joey has a wisdom and maturity WAY beyond his years. He has developed a profoundly deep and personal love for Jesus and it was frequently Joey who brought encouragement, strength, and balance to conversations and worries of others around him - even his own parents. In Nick's CaringBridge post announcing Joey's passing, he made the statement, "I can only hope to run a race as strong, and focused, and effective as you. In spiritual terms, I look up to you." I know he meant every word of it because he said the same thing to me on more than one occasion. And even for as short a time as I've known Joey, I feel the same way. Joey is for me and for so very many others, a model of strength, wisdom, and maturity in many ways.
We know that God uses adversity in our lives to mold and shape us - as a "refining fire" through which we are purified and mettle tested. It is my opinion that the sheer volume of adversity that Joey went through in his short time on this planet was probably sufficient, in God's hands, to accomplish all the work in him so often takes God an entire lifetime to accomplish in most of the rest of us. Though I initially thought of Joey's passing as being a race "cut short", further reflection on who he is and how he behaved caused me to think that, perhaps, he just finished his race that much faster than the rest of us! Certainly he has finished his race well and will receive a reward for this valiant fight that most of the rest of us will only be able to look upon in awe. I am confident that God will continue to work through Joey's legacy in this life for many years to come and will bless countless other children through it.
Though Joey barely knew me, he has already had an enormous impact on myself and my family in our prayer lives, my understanding and experience with prayer and healing, and even our conversations and experience with cancer and hospitals ... an area that we will continue to look to his example in the months and years ahead of us.
As this Thanksgiving Day draws to a close, I realize despite the enormous grief I have been under this week, how very thankful I am to know Joey, his parents, his grandparents, and so many of the other friends from around the country and around the world that comprise "Team Joey". And though in my own limited wisdom, I would so much rather have had him around with us for much, MUCH longer, I am grateful that I will carry these memories of him him as a great soul - someone who at barely 9 years of age, ran the race so as to win - and won. And one day soon, I'll see him again in Glory, as a man, full of life and health and unencumbered by the trials he faced in this world. If I can finish even half as strong as Joey Keller, I'll be a happy man when I meet my Lord face-to-face.
- Tim -