What Chase’s Journey Has Taught Me About God’s Grace

By way of quick update, Chase is recovering remarkably well from his surgery. They already have him sitting in his chair. He is truly an incredible boy. Nothing phases him, not even major surgeries! He handles it like a trooper, even though this one is supposed to be very painful. He is far stronger than me. I would be complaining, I’m sure!

Please continue to pray, though. He does appear to have a little sickness. Please pray that it subsides quickly, and that he does not get an infection.

Chase’s surgery is significant, but it is one of several at this point in his life. He is almost 10 years now, and the last decade has been both a painful and wonderful journey. God has been gracious to Chase and our family, even in the midst of great trial and tribulation.

The Internal Work of Trials

Over time I have come to see something that I could not see clearly in the early days of our son’s diagnosis. The most significant work God was doing was not primarily around me. It was within me. God has brought me into greater dependence on Him. He has shaped my character greatly, and is making me into a better husband, father, pastor, and friend. The pain has both stripped and strengthened me. But it has also done something else: it has brought me face to face with God’s sustaining grace.

I have sensed God’s presence in ways I might never have noticed if life had remained comfortable.

• Not dramatic experiences.

• Not mystical revelations.

• Just the steady assurance that the Lord who allowed this road is also walking it with us.

It is grace in the middle of exhaustion. Grace in hospital waiting rooms. Grace in late-night prayers whispered when words run out. Those moments do not remove the pain, but they remind us that we are not carrying it alone.

A New Perspective on Suffering

One of the things that surprised me most through this journey is how suffering changes the way you see people. When life has been difficult, you begin to notice the hidden struggles around you:

• The quiet sadness in someone’s voice.

• The tiredness in a parent’s eyes.

• The unspoken grief in a conversation that seems ordinary on the surface.

Pain enlarges your vision. You begin to understand something the apostle Paul wrote long ago—that the comfort we receive from God becomes the comfort we offer to others. The wounds that once felt like liabilities slowly become places where compassion grows.

I have seen this in my own life. The road we have walked with Chase opened doors for ministry I never anticipated. Conversations with parents of special needs children. Sitting beside families in hospital rooms. Listening to people whose hearts are breaking. Our story did not end when the diagnosis arrived. In many ways, it began there.

The Mystery of Redemption

That is one of the quiet mysteries of redemption. God does not simply carry us through suffering; He often uses our suffering to carry others. Still, the deepest hope of the Christian life is not found in how God uses our pain here. It is found in the promise that one day suffering itself will end. The broken world we inhabit now will not last forever. Death will be defeated. Tears will be wiped away. The suffering that marks this present life will not follow us into the next.

For our family, that promise is deeply personal.

• One day Chase will not struggle with seizures any longer.

• One day his body will be strong, rather than floppy. His back will be even straighter than it is after this surgery.

• One day his brain will be made whole and will no longer torture him.

One day the limitations that shape his life now, and number his days with us, will be gone forever. And on that day, we will see something we cannot yet fully understand. We will find that none of the tears we shed were wasted. God was redeeming them.

Trusting in the Tension

Until that day comes, we live in the tension Scripture describes so honestly. We grieve and hope at the same time. We pray for healing while trusting God’s wisdom.

But faith does not need to be perfect to be real. Sometimes faith looks like confidence. Sometimes it looks like quiet endurance. Sometimes it simply looks like getting up tomorrow and trusting God again.

If you are walking through suffering today, I want to leave you with this encouragement:

Your pain is not invisible to God. Your questions do not scare Him. Your tears are not wasted.

We may not see all that He is doing yet, but one day we will. There may be moments when you feel too weak to keep trusting. In those moments, remember that even when your faith falters, God remains faithful and will carry you until the day your faith becomes sight.

Until then, we heed the wise words of King Solomon:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. (Pr. 3:5-6)

We keep trusting. We keep walking. Not because the road is easy, or the path is completely clear, but because the One who leads us is faithful.