Sometime around 9:00 tomorrow morning, our little family will stand in a courtroom before a judge, surrounded by family and friends and watch as Greyson becomes a Veal through adoption. We first learned about Greyson on June 8th, 2018 via a phone call from a case worker. The call was about a four-day old little boy who needed a foster home. That day was a dramatic day for us, one where we learned a valuable lesson about prayer. And one where my sonMason learned that God hears him when he prays. Seventeen months, one cancer diagnosis and a thousand tears later, we stand amazed at how much this little toddler has taught us. Here are three of the biggest lessons we’ve learned on this journey towards adoption.
Control is Overrated
I like to have control over life. I like routine and consistency. At times, I can be rigid about my schedule, taking routine and structure to the extreme. But, I’ve been reminded again that I don’t have as much control over life as I like to think I do. Four months ago, we were handing Greyson back to his biological mother, Ashley. We sat on a couch in the basement of her house and went over all the details of Greyson’s day to day routine. We told Ashley how proud we were of her. We gave her hugs. We prayed with her and for her and for Greyson. And then we headed to Kansas City to process the sadness in our hearts. We had been Greyson’s foster-parents since he was four days old and while we were genuinely excited for Ashley and proud of the progress she was making, we were also broken to say good-bye to Greyson.
That was Monday. We had no idea that four short days later our sadness would be taken to a level far deeper than we could ever imagine. That Friday, July 19th, Greyson had a doctor’s appointment, with some routine labs to be drawn. We volunteered to take him and Ashley to the Dr. that day and looking back it’s easy to see why. The appointment was over, bloodwork had been drawn. We stopped to get some lunch before taking Ashley and Greyson home. I’ll never forget sitting in the Play Place of McDonald’s when the phone rang. My wife answered it, and both her and Ashley went into a private room so they could hear better. I knew something wasn’t right, but I was not prepared for what happened next. The doctor found something concerning on the lab work…they were confident…Greyson had cancer. Leukemia, to be exact. We hurried from the Play Place to the hospital where we would sit in a hospital room and try to process how this could have happened. We were all in total shock. Just four days earlier we were crying in the basement of a home, saying good-bye to Greyson. Now were crying in a hospital room, wondering if this good-bye was going to be more permanent than we ever could have imagined.
Did I mention that I like to have control? I thrive on consistency and routine. But the Lord has taught me through Greyson that I don’t have as much control as I like to think I have. And the Lord has taught me through Greyson that I don’t really want control to begin with. Control, for all the comfort it brings me is vastly overrated.
Love is Deep
A mother’s love is deep. There aren’t words descriptive enough to tell you about the love that my wife has for her family. I’ve watched as my wife has sacrificed sleep and sanity for her family. I’ve seen the way Greyson looks at her and how his eyes light up when he sees her. Though he cannot vocalize his emotions, the words “I love you” are written all over his face. Her love for him is deep, his love for her is deep.
A brother’s love is deep. I’ve watched as our 7-year-old son, Mason has tried his best to process the new “normal” with Greyson. I held his hand as I told him that Greyson was very sick and tried to explain cancer to him in a way that a seven-year-old would understand. I saw tears run down his cheeks as the reality of what the future might hold hit home in his heart. And I’ve seen him put on a smile on the way into a hospital room because he was the only one who could cheer Greyson up when he was sad. Mason has this unique ability to make Greyson laugh like no one else in the world can.
In September I sat across the table from Ashley, Greyson’s biological mother as we talked about the possibility of adoption. A few weeks later I watched as her hand shook and tears fell as she signed over her rights to Greyson. Her love for Greyson is deep. And signing her rights over to us is one of the bravest and most selfless things I’ve ever witnessed. Ashley wondered if people would think she was crazy for giving up her son for adoption. We reminded her that love does crazy things. Her love for Greyson is deep.
I’ve watched as our church family has walked with us in some of the darkest days of our life. I will forever remember the words of a dear saint to me the weekend after we found out Greyson had cancer. I made the comment that we were just going to walk ahead, one day at a time. She responded, “And we’re going to be walking with you, every step of the way.” Our church family has shown us a love that is deep.
I’ve watched as family members have sacrificed to be present and help in any way they could. I’ve been on the receiving end of complete strangers who have sent us cards and prayers. We’ve had organizations send Greyson gifts to cheer him up and encourage him and us.
In short, I’ve seen that love is deep. Really deep. And for as undeserving as I am, I am eternally grateful.
God is Good
God is good, even on days when it feels like He’s not. A.W. Tozer once wrote, “It’s doubtful that God can bless a man deeply until he has first hurt him deeply.” That sounds counter-intuitive. How could God hurt a man deeply? Especially one of his own children? But in his permissive will, God allows bad things, horrible things to happen, even to his children. But he has also promised that in all things, He works for the good of those who love him. (Romans 8:28).
July was a dark, dark month for us. In July we returned our foster-son back to his mother. Four days later we found out he had cancer. And we spent the rest of month trying to process what all of that meant. July was dark. But it wasn’t pitch black. It never is for a child of God. In July our seven-year-old son Mason was baptized. In July, our church family rallied around our brokenness and ministered to us in ways that have left us humbled. In July we felt the prayers of God’s people lift us up as we felt like we were tumbling down. For all the good that July had, it was still overshadowed by darkness. There’s no way around it, July was dark. And we were confused.
August wasn’t much better. We endured the first month of chemo with a toddler, trying to read the signs and figure out how he felt. If he didn’t eat much and burped a lot, we assumed he was nauseous. If he slept late and laid around all day, we knew he was tired. If he screamed for no apparent reason, we knew he was hurting. We had hoped that he would go into remission by day 29, which is the normal pattern for leukemia. But we found out a few weeks into chemo that he had a specific genetic mutation that meant bad news, very bad news. Day 29 came, and the result was not what we had hoped for. He was not in remission.
The oncology team suspected that he wasn’t in remission because the mutation was still there, but we wouldn’t know those results for another week or so. The next week we spent processing this news and came to grips with the reality that he would likely need a bone marrow transplant.
It was a Sunday, and I remember sharing with our Sunday School class the news that he wasn’t in remission and that they suspected that the mutation was still there. When I prayed, I specifically remember praying that God would shock us…that he would cause the mutation to be gone. If I’m being honest, I didn’t really believe that the mutation would be gone. I’m not even sure why I prayed that. We had already accepted that the mutation would be there. 48 hours later my wife sat with Greyson at the chemo clinic when the Dr. came into the room. She called me a few minutes later, I could hear her crying as she spoke. My immediate thought was that the cancer had come back with a vengeance. “Brian…” she said… “It’s gone. The mutation is gone!” I didn’t believe her…so I asked her to have someone else check the report. I immediately remembered the prayer I had prayed two days earlier. God had shocked us. And hope was beginning to grow.
We spent the next eight weeks aggressively attacking this cancer with chemo as often as four times a week. In October I began to pray that God would shine brightly in November. For as dark as July was, could it be possible that in November, God was going to bless our socks off? The answer is yes.
On November 19th we discovered that Greyson is in REMISSION! We jumped and cheered and kissed him a billion times over. We drove to Mason’s school and pulled him out of class to tell him the good news. Remission! Praise God!
On November 20th we celebrated Mason’s “Gotcha Day.” This is the anniversary of his adoption, the day we officially “got him!” We celebrated with gifts, a cake, his own special meal and showered him with love and affection. Gotcha Day! Praise God!
And on November 27th we will adopt Greyson. He will now forever be a Veal! Praise God!
All of this, just in time for our little family to gather around a table and celebrate Thanksgiving. Praise God!
July was a dark month. In the span of four days we said goodbye to our foster-son and hello to his cancer. But in November, God literally flipped the script. In November we said good-bye to his cancer and hello to our new adopted son.
But, if you aren’t careful, you’ll miss one of the biggest lessons we’ve learned from Greyson. The biggest lesson is this simple truth: God is good, all the time. God was just as good in the dark month of July as He has been in the bright month of November. On some of our darkest days, God was there, speaking through His Word, speaking through His people and speaking through His Spirit to our hearts. God was good in July because God is always good, even when it felt like he wasn’t.
We’ve now been on this cancer journey with Greyson for five months. In some ways, it feels like it’s been five years. But God has been faithful, and He has been good. He has used a little boy, my son, to teach me so much about life, faith and love. Our road ahead will be long, with Greyson’s chemo treatments lasting 3+ years, even with remission. We don’t know what the future holds. It can be scary to think too far ahead. So instead I’ll just focus on these three simple lessons:
Control is overrated.
Love is deep.
God is good.
Happy Thanksgiving,
Brian, Karla, Mason and Greyson (almost in 12 hours) Veal