21 June 2008
Houston, Texas

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Last Sunday, Father's Day, all I wanted was to be with my family. Little else matters on that day, especially if one of your children is fighting against the odds in a battle with cancer. Last month, my son Everett's oncologist told us that only a third of patients respond to the chemotherapy he wanted to try after Everett’s failure of three previous treatment regimens. This fourth set of medicines was perhaps Everett's last chance to gain control of his disease, and the follow-up scan this week would tell us whether or not the treatment is working.

That unanswered question weighed heavily on my heart as I spent Father's Day with Cindy and our three children. The aching feeling was an acute, intensified version of what I have suffered ever since September, when Everett received his diagnosis of Ewing’s sarcoma of the left pelvis and began treatment at the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. Yet, Everett's illness has also put life, and love, in perspective. Hard reality has cleared away everything that is unimportant and separated, like wheat from chaff, the meaningful from the meaningless. In our uncertainty I have seen more clearly the steadfast grace of God, and in our suffering I have felt more tenderly his loving arms around us.

So although on Father's Day the reality of Everett's illness weighed heavily on my heart, I rejoiced that he, Laura, Stewart, and Cindy were by my side. After church we stopped and picked up freshly baked baguettes, Gouda, Edam, and Swiss cheeses, red plums, chewy chocolate cookies, and bottles of Stewart's root beer; then at home we put on some fun music and had a picnic in our living room. It was the best Father's Day I have ever had.

On Wednesday the oncologist told us that Everett has had a very good response to the latest chemotherapy, that his tumor has significantly reduced in size, and that, therefore, curative surgery is still an option for the future.  For now, Everett will continue receiving chemotherapy to maximize the response before the operation.

On Thursday I accompanied Everett to the hospital to begin the next round of chemotherapy. As I sat next to his bed in the infusion unit, he fell asleep. So I laid my head in my arms on the bedside tray and slept next to him. There is nowhere else in the world I would rather have been than with my son in that peaceful slumber, held in God’s grace, his loving arms around us.

Yours,

Les

Dr. Leslie Y. Morgan
PC(USA) Mission Co-Worker/Bangladesh

The 2008 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 89