The Stanford News!

Months ago, when we'd been rejected from a clinical trial, I cried to Michael. The lack of control and depth of feeling involved in every tiny detail was so frustrating. He listened, then said "I see why you feel frustrated, and I feel some of that too. But we've seen God work things out in too many tiny details not to believe that He'll take care of this big one." His faith brought me so much peace. 

Friday night, we got the call we've waited for. Even though we were last told that we couldn't begin treatment at Stanford until late September or October, something changed. A spot is open on August 12. It's absolutely the ideal medical timing for Hyrum, and miraculously, not too much earlier than we had planned to leave Oklahoma anyway. We're hustling to get our house settled, say goodbyes, and start the drive to Utah. 

Michael and Hyrum will continue on to Stanford for preliminary tests, forms, and the extraction of Hyrum's T-cells. Then, there's a nice 3-4 week break while the cells are transformed into a brilliant anti-tumor medicine. Michael and Hyrum will head back for a leisurely visit in Utah all together. After that, all of us head to California for 3 months of continued treatment. If it's successful, he can continue receiving infusions indefinitely. 

Honestly... August 12?? The earliest we were EVER told we might go was late August. This delicate moment, I feel a gut-deep relief, joy and awe at this impossible opportunity. This miracle. On the other hand, I see the shadow of a family that would have had this spot. Our miracle is their darkest hour. It's a moment I hope I remember later, when my son's absence from something creates a miraculous opening for someone else.

There's just... a lot to think and feel. This gift is humbling in so many ways. It reminds me to be mindful what I pray for, because every blessing is costly in one way or another. It reminds me that hopelessness thrives on isolation- because every personal sorrow can be seen alongside the collective good. It reminds me that God is the grand orchestrator, and that I don't really need "control". I need to be closer to Him. He works it out. He does. 

And it reminds me that God shines in both fireworks and candles. This miracle? So obvious, explosive, and bright. But last week, when I was exhausted in every possible way, I also saw Him send gentle breezes to lift my spirits, kind neighbors to lift my load, and quiet moments that lifted my soul. Every day was JUST enough. Just a flicker, always there. Those, too, were miracles from God, the kind that I need most of all. 

We're really happy :)