I paced the floor of our second-floor hospital room. By this point, the collages that adorned the hallways were chiseled into my memory. The now familiar red-framed windows seemed more like prison bars preventing our escape than portals providing God’s gift of sunlight. It had been several months since Carson had been admitted to the hospital, but a fever above 100.4 and low blood counts left him vulnerable to septic shock. In all likelihood, his symptoms were the result of a virus, but the possibility of an infection requires extra precautions when you’re fighting childhood cancer.

It happened more than once.

This particular occasion was not only unplanned, but it also left me scurrying to adjust my schedule and responsibilities back home. Because we were in Memphis for Carson’s weekly chemotherapy, I expected a routine turnaround that would have us home in less than 36 hours. When he spiked a fever during our stay, however, our overnight trip became a weeklong stay.

Carson was putting a puzzle together on the tray from which he ate his meals in bed. The muffle of a ballgame on television played in the background, but I was oblivious to my surroundings. Anxious to get home as soon as possible, I was thankful when our nurse opened the door to our room. My enthusiasm was short lived. She soon explained that Carson’s immunity level wasn’t rising, and we would need to stay in Memphis for a bit longer. In a fit of exasperation, I mumbled to myself, “How much longer will we have to wait!”

Why is waiting so hard?

Perhaps I’ve met someone along the way who enjoys waiting, but I don’t recall it. Being in limbo tests our sanity and prolonged delays can even cause us to doubt the Lord. No explanation is exhaustive because our motivations are often complicated. I do believe, however, that three realizations are often at the root of our impatience when life doesn’t go as planned.

Waiting shatters the myth that we are in control. Juggling schedules, meeting deadlines, and monitoring results gives us the impression that are at the helm of our universe. Do you have a goal? Just work harder. Do you have a problem? Do something about it. Choose your destiny. Seize the day. Claim your reality. Mantras like these resonate with us precisely because we yearn to be in charge and are willing to play along. But deep down, we know it is all a lie. Nothing interrupts our fantasy like a prolonged sense of helplessness.

Waiting often unleashes our deepest fears. Where are You, God? What are You doing, God? Why won’t You answer me, God? Questions like these seldom accost us when everything unfolds according to schedule. At the first sign that God is not at our beck and call, though, we are quick to question His wisdom and doubt His concern. Periods of vulnerability leave us unwanted time to think, and the silence uncomfortably shouts over the peace God bestows. Anxieties that are normally held in check sometimes wreak havoc on us while we wait.

Waiting reveals our true priorities. Most people would be insulted if you accused them of being slaves to their work. Neither are we anxious to admit that we are puppets guided by the hand of public perception and opinion. Nor do we fancy ourselves as materialistic or self-centered. Unfortunately, seasons of waiting often tell a different story. Though interruptions force us to peel away all that is unnecessary in our lives, our unwillingness to do so may reveal that we value the wrong things. When the world goes on while our hands are tied, we realize just how much we idolize the accolades and possessions we pretend not to seek. Despite our affirmations that God is trustworthy and that sanctification is priority, childish outbursts and temper tantrums uncover our true agenda.

Each of these insecurities haunted me repeatedly throughout our three years at St. Jude, and especially during the aforementioned hospital stay. Thankfully, neither I, nor you, are alone in our struggle to wait on the Lord. During a painful time of testing, King David once called out to the Lord with desperation in Psalm 4:

Answer me when I call, O God! (v1)
Be gracious to me! (v1)
Hear my prayer! (v1)

Then, with supernatural clarity, David realized that his wait would be worth it.

Tremble and do not sin. (v4)
Meditate in your heart . . . and be still. (v4)
Offer the sacrifices of righteousness. (v4)
Trust in the Lord. (v4)

Slowly, I am learning that the benefits of waiting on the Lord far exceed the inconveniences. With a loss of control, comes the peace of resting in our Savior (Psalm 26:3-4). The discomfort of facing our fears and enduring difficulties unleashes the strength of God in our lives (2 Cor. 12:9). Exposing misplaced priorities opens the door for renewed commitment to the Lord (Psalm 32:5).

God continues to use the crucible of uncertainty in my life. I am confident He will do the same for you. He is eager to renew our strength, if only we are willing to wait upon Him (Isaiah 40:31).

Do you find these lessons helpful? Want to read more insights from Adam Dooley? Preorder your copy of Hope When Life Unravels today by clicking here.

Her words stopped me in my tracks. 

“I need to verify your insurance information, Mr. Dooley, but you will never receive a bill from the hospital,” she stated casually. I should have known; after all, I see the same commercials that you see from time to time. Yet, I am embarrassed to admit that previously I failed to pay attention. At this point, I knew little about childhood cancer and even less about St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital in Memphis. What was second nature to the woman in registration was news to me.

“How is that possible?” I asked. 

“Because of generous donors around the world,” she explained, “our patients never receive a bill from the hospital. There will be no charge for whatever your insurance fails to pay.”

No charge?

“No charge. You take care of your son and let us take care of the rest.”

And take care of it they did. Every flight we took to Memphis (over 100). Every mile we drove. Every meal we ate while there. Every room we stayed in overnight. Every vial of chemo Carson received. Every MRI, CT scan, and clinic visit. No expense was spared, and no expense was laid at our feet.

No charge. No strings attached.

When it was all over, we estimated that St. Jude spent nearly 2 million dollars to help our son get well. Words cannot describe the deep gratitude our family feels for the abundant, unrestricted generosity of the world’s premier research hospital leading the fight against childhood cancer. To this day, it takes my breath away.

Frankly, the whole experience gave me a completely new outlook on living a generous life. No secular organization should model the sacrificial giving God seeks more than the church of the Lord Jesus. As a pastor, I not only want to model sacrificial giving for my people, but I also want to teach them to prioritize the Lord’s work.

I realize that discussions on money and giving are often taboo despite the fact that significant portions of Scripture are devoted to these subjects. While the lies of the prosperity gospel leave many wishing to avoid the issue altogether, faithful pastors seeking to preach the whole counsel of God recognize the undeniable connection between our view of wealth and our spiritual maturity. Simply put, wherever we put our treasure, our heart will necessarily follow (Matt. 6:21).  

Despite our best efforts to ignore it, most Christians instinctively understand that either God or money will rise to prominence in our lives, leaving no room for both to capture our allegiance (Matt. 6:24). The biblical antidote for worshipping at the altar of the almighty dollar is generous giving to God’s kingdom work (Matt. 6:19-20). So, instead of asking if we should give, allow me to make some observations about how we should give, particularly to our local church. Five patterns emerge as we consider the kind of generosity that pleases God.

Our giving should be sacrificial. While describing the giving of the Macedonians to the ministry of the church, Paul says they gave despite their great affliction and poverty (2 Cor. 8:2) in a way that was according to their ability and beyond their ability (2 Cor. 8:3). Sharing resources that we will never miss falls short of the sacrifice God desires in our giving.

Our giving should be intentional. Not only does Paul challenge the Corinthian believers to participate in the offering for the Jerusalem church, he also tells them to plan ahead and set aside their gift well before its collection (2 Cor. 9:5). Setting aside funds each week is the best strategy because it increases our capacity to give beyond what single moments allow (1 Cor. 16:1). Being intentional pushes the kingdom’s agenda to the forefront of our budget by protecting us from reactionary giving out of our leftovers.

Our giving should be cheerful. Lest anyone think that generosity is defined by certain dollar amounts, Paul also highlights the heart and attitude that should accompany our offerings. Giving only when coerced or forced creates a religious hypocrisy that resembles a whitewashed tomb rather than a transformed heart.  God desires cheerful anticipation as we give out of devoted resolve to build eternal treasure (2 Cor. 9:7).

Our giving should be proportional. Much like a swinging pendulum, the proportional nature of giving is obvious in two distinct ways. First, what we give away should be proportional to what God has given us. Second, what God gives us is often proportional to what we are willing to give away. Do you want to be generous? Give as God as given to you. Do you want to be more generous?  God can (and will) give you everything you need to be as generous as He wants you to be (2 Cor. 9:8-11).

Our giving should be worshipful. Not only does supporting God’s kingdom work lead those who benefit to worship God, but it also points us back to the One who gave more than any material possession we might part with. Giving reminds us of the “indescribable gift” of God’s Son (2 Cor. 9:15). Though Jesus was rich, He became poor so that we might become wealthy because of His poverty (2 Cor. 8:9). Sustained generosity not only makes us more like Jesus, it also helps us to appreciate the depth and breadth of His great sacrifice for us.

Do you find these lessons helpful? Want to read more insights from Adam Dooley? Preorder your copy of Hope When Life Unravels today by clicking here.

How can we make this work? Heather fought back tears as she tried to process the mixed emotions that gripped her. We sat in what felt like eternal silence, occasionally looking at one another but without words to articulate our feelings. During the darkest valley of our adult lives, this news was the last “blessing” we expected to receive. 

Our routine was already regimented and exhausting. Every Tuesday we boarded an early flight to Memphis, TN for Carson’s weekly chemotherapy at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. Usually arriving before dinner, we ate a quick meal at what was formerly the Grizzly House (now Tri-Delta Place) before heading over to the hospital for lab work meant to measure his immunity levels. Then, early the next morning, we met Carson’s attending physician in the clinic in order to be cleared for his weekly cocktail of medication. Despite the occasional lumbar puncture sprinkled in every few months, we usually finished by lunch on Wednesday before returning to the airport for the reverse flight home. 

The only ingredient worse than the grueling pace of this drill was the daunting prospect of maintaining its grind for 128 consecutive weeks. Early on, Heather and I decided to alternate trips, but with 75% of them remaining everything was about to change. Fighting childhood cancer was difficult enough with two children. How could we possibly add a third to such a frantic schedule? With Carson needing so much attention, how could we adequately care for a newborn? How could we manage another responsibility?

But the test did not lie. 

Thankfully, neither did God’s Word. I knew and believed that children are a gift from the Lord (Psalm 127:3-5). I understood that all human life is valuable because every person is made in the image of God (Gen. 1:26-27). I also remembered that Jesus compared the pain of childbirth to the sorrow surrounding his death, while also insisting that the joy of giving birth will mirror the joy of his disciples after His resurrection (John 16:21). God seemed to whisper through my doubts, “Consider this an unexpected blessing.”

But in the interest of transparency, can I admit that it did not feel like a blessing? Don’t misunderstand, we wanted more children. Our plan, however, was to weather our storm before expanding our family. Surely, God knew the timing was all wrong! Anyone could see this was too much to ask in our situation! Yet, the Lord’s ways are not our ways and His thoughts are not our thoughts (Isaiah 55:8-9). 

Now, all these years later, I am embarrassed by my shortsightedness. That unexpected blessing was my third son, Jacob Bradley. Though the news of his arrival initially felt like an ill-timed intrusion, it actually became a healthy distraction. Yes, some days were challenging, and we often wrestled with anxiety, but it was also impossible to dwell on our trial and wallow in our misery. God, in His goodness, gave us joy in the midst of our darkness. As unexpected as it was, the birth of our son was exactly what we needed at precisely the right time. Because of our new addition, we laughed, we celebrated, and we marveled over our God instead of living in doubt.

When I look at Jacob today, I see myself behind his piercing brown eyes. He is smart, mischievous, and the life the party. Neither Heather nor I can imagine life without him.

I still grieve that I did not see it at first.

God has many purposes through our suffering, many of which we may never understand. Yet, undoubtedly, the Lord often works in the midst of our pain to drop unexpected blessings into our lives. He may gift you with greater character and hope (Rom. 5:3-5). He may comfort you in order to make you a blessing to others (2 Cor. 1:3-4). Maybe He desires to correct your waywardness and to protect you from problems you don’t see coming (Heb. 12:5-11). Whether the goal is greater humility (2 Cor. 12:7), deeper intimacy with the Lord (Psalm 119:64-68), or increased heavenly reward (2 Cor. 4:16-18), you can rest knowing that God is working in ways you cannot see to provide blessings you do not expect.

Trials are deceptive, not only because of the wounds they leave behind, but also because of the vision they steal from us. Be careful. The light of God’s faithfulness will always penetrate the darkness of our heaviest burdens, even if not immediately. You may not see it now, but you will one day.

So, look around. You are likely more blessed than you think. In fact, the very trial that you hate may be the means God chooses to deliver an unexpected blessing that you do not deserve.

Trust Him (Rom. 8:28).
Follow Him (James 1:2-4). Rest in Him (Matt. 11:28-29).

You will be glad that you did.

It’s not too early to preorder your copy of Hope When Life Unravels. Click here to reserve yours today!

One of the reasons I believe God prompted me to write Hope When Life Unravels is so that my family will be able to hold onto the many lessons He taught us along the way. As with any book, however, the burden of every author is to speak as concisely as possible. Thus, every memory did not make it into the pages of my manuscript and, unfortunately, a number of spiritual realizations had to be omitted as well. Below are a few more insights that neither time nor space permitted me to share.  If you would like to read part one of this post, click here.

3. Faith does not give us the power to eliminate trials, but to endure them instead.  The health and prosperity gospel has always been offensive to me, but more deeply so after battling this cancer as a family.  I do not mean to say that God cannot or does not heal at times.  The notion, however, that all sickness can be removed by faith is patently false.  Sometimes God develops us through trials rather than rescuing us from them.  I have no doubt that Carson will be a better man because of what he faced.  Others also benefited from the pain he endured. Our family grew in the Lord; several friends trusted Christ as their Savior; and a number of St. Jude families dared to believe they could beat cancer too as they observed Carson’s milestones.

4. Fatherhood matters. Why did God make me sick, Daddy?  The question took my breath away.  His big blue eyes peered over his medical mask and the plane engine hummed beneath us.  My son was searching for answers, trying to make sense of the God who loved him and the trial that wrecked his life of innocence. That was just one of many moments where Carson looked to me for reassurance and stability. Children need an active, spiritual father to guide them through life.  Motherhood is equally important, to be sure, but fathers play a unique role in the spiritual development and nurture of their kids.  Because God expects husbands and fathers to lead their families, refusing to do so creates a damaging vacuum in the home.  Teaching my children to love and trust God at all times is my responsibility.  I must connect with them.  They need my example.  I should encourage them while also holding them accountable.  I cannot delegate this sacred duty (Deut. 6:5-7).  Though I would like to tell you this came natural for me, I cannot.  Despite my view that Carson should be a better kid because of his dad, in reality, I am a much better father because of him.  Battling leukemia left no room for my laziness; and I’m grateful.

5. Life is not about me, or even the people I love.  

Though I frequently wonder what God most wanted to teach us through Carson’s sickness, I realize this trial may not have been primarily about the Dooley family.  Throughout the three-year journey, I continually reminded Carson that God had a plan for his sickness even if we didn’t know what it was and even if it did not relate directly to us.  With child-like faith, he accepted my assurance as true.  Amazingly, I do not remember one instance when Carson complained about his illness.  Perhaps those incidents are merely lost in the fog of our darkest moments, but I do not recall them.  Instinctively, he seemed to know that more was at stake than the outcome of his suffering.  

The same is true for you. 

How can I be so sure? The story of Job is often a source of strength for those facing hardship, but tucked behind the drama of the opening chapters is a powerful truth to help us face tragedy with a different perspective. After Satan mocked the notion that people worship God for who He is rather than what He does for them the Lord presented Job as a test case. The real focus of the scene, however, is the glory of God rather than the character of His servant. Despite our tendency to look insatiably for the cause and effect behind every trial we face, sometimes we are mere background characters in much bigger story. Yes, we can learn important life lessons during seasons of pain, but even then, the promotion of divine glory is often the main agenda.

Do you find these lessons helpful? Want to read more insights from Adam Dooley? Preorder your copy of Hope When Life Unravels today by clicking here.

We all have days that live in infamy.  For our family, one word at one moment changed us forever.  Sitting in a tiny examining room with wood panel on the walls, I knew deep down whatever the doctor was about to share would not be good. “I wish I had better news,” she said, “but I believe Carson has leukemia.”  Leukemia?  Not Carson.  How is that possible? I’m ashamed to say that I knew little about pediatric cancer at this point and my knowledge about cancer in general was frightening.  Fear immediately invaded my heart and tears quickly followed.  By now my wife Heather was breaking down beside me.

Now, six years after sickness put everything we believe about God and our faith to the test, Carson is completely cancer-free.  Sometimes I find myself paralyzed with amazement and gratitude while watching him play sports, laugh with his friends, or sing in church.  Normal, mundane things are more beautiful to me than would have ever been possible apart from the trial that rocked us to the core.  Carson endured over 130 consecutive weeks of chemotherapy that included over twenty lumbar punctures and twenty-eight weeks of steroids.  Fever hospitalized him on six occasions, and we spent multiple nights in the ER battling viruses.  He battled nausea, soreness, mood swings, and exhaustion.  Yet, by God’s grace, my son is not only alive, but he is also thriving now that cancer is in our rearview mirror.  

People often ask me what valuable lessons I learned through Carson’s ordeal. My new book, Hope When Life Unravels, chronicles most of the valuable truths God taught our family during the ordeal. Here is a glimpse of what you will read in its pages, as well as some cherished insights eliminated due to space. 

1. It is okay to ask God why. Why is God letting this happen?  Why my son?  Why now?  These questions ran wildly through my mind after Carson’s initial diagnosis.  Initially, it embarrassed me to bring such trivial inquiries before God.  Even as I sought answers to my anxieties, Carson had questions of his own that needed answering.  Why do those nurses have to poke me?  Why do I need this medicine?  Why can’t we just go home?  Why are you and mommy crying?  Why?  Why?  Why?  

Then it dawned on me.  I do not resent these questions from my son.  In fact, I am eager to comfort and reassure him that everything will be okay.  Even when certain answers were not helpful for him, I withheld them out of concern rather than frustration.  Could it be that this is how God hears our cries for information?  Occasionally, well meaning Christians or Bible teachers will either explicitly or implicitly caution that asking God why is out of bounds.  Yet, the Bible nowhere teaches that it is sinful to ask God why.  Job asked God why twenty different times.  Moses asked God why He sent him to lead the nation of Israel (Ex 5:22), Joshua asked God why He was allowing Israel to be destroyed (Joshua 7:7), and the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah asked God why He dealt so harshly with Israel (Is 63:17; Jer 14:19).  Perhaps most stunning of all, however, is the remarkable lament of Jesus on the cross when He cried, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me (Matt 27:46)?”  

In none of these instances will you find God irritated or angry because of the question.  Questioning His work in your life is permissible even though demanding an answer is not.  Feel free to ask God why, just don’t chastise Him if you don’t like the answer.

2. Jesus really is enough.  The issue is not whether God is real, but whether He is enough during seasons of difficulty.  For years, I preached and encouraged others who were hurting to trust God no matter the circumstances.  Though I sincerely believed this was true, I lacked an experience that tested my knowledge.  That is no longer the case.  Carson helped me to see that having God in your life is always better than any answers He might give to explain your plight.  I found God to be faithful, not because I read it in a book, but because I lived it with my son.

If these observations encourage you, preorder your copy of Hope When Life Unravels today. Simply click here. I’ll share more lessons like these in part 2 of “Lessons from the Furnace.”

In sickness and in health. When Heather and I shared those vows on our wedding day I envisioned growing old together until one of us took our last breath. I imagined that, if God allowed, our final days on Earth would likely be filled with doctor appointments and hospital stays as the nemesis of old age encroached upon our love story. I was determined, however, to be just as faithful in those latter years as I was at the beginning of our life together. Now, all these years later, I remain just as committed to that promise.

What I could not have imagined, though, was that the severe illness plaguing our marriage the most would not wait until our golden years to put us to the test. Nor did I predict that the most trying disease we would face as a couple would not be our own. Married just eight years when Carson was diagnosed with leukemia, Heather and I were deeply content with one another and still very much in love. Yet, the three years that followed were a whirlwind of exhausting trips to Memphis, abiding fear for our son’s welfare, and isolation from many of the people we loved and the things we enjoyed doing. It was terrible.

The ever-present stresses that accompany a battle with pediatric cancer are enough to ruin the best marriages. Though I have no concrete data to support it, a common word of caution passed around St. Jude Hospital was that as many as half of the couples who began caring for a child with cancer would separate before treatment ended. I understand why. Yet, this is where our story diverges from this common plight. 

Though we did not emerge unscathed, I can truthfully say that Heather and I are much closer as husband and wife after walking through our familial valley. Why? Largely because of her. My wife would never fancy herself as a strong woman. She loathes public speaking; she doesn’t enjoy taking the lead; and she despises being the center of attention. Working behind the scenes is where she shines, pushing others into the limelight rather than taking it for herself. 

Yet, what she perceives to be weaknesses is actually what makes her so strong. I saw it firsthand when Carson was ill, and I remain in awe of her courage and resolve to this day. Heather fought for normalcy during those years. She transformed our home into a fortress of rest and protection. Whenever I was discouraged, she insisted that we were making progress. She kept our home germ free so that our son could thrive. She prepared meals that were in line with his strict diet. She cared for our youngest child at the time (Brady) as he learned to walk and talk. And when news came that our third son was on the way, she chose to view it as a healthy distraction despite the added stress to an overwhelmed schedule. 

Now, with five kids in the house, Heather continues to juggle daily routines, balance fun with responsibilities, and point all of us to what matters most in life. She was, and she is, the glue that holds our family together. She is the strongest woman that I know, and I am a better man for having married her. Hope When Life Unravels focuses on all that God taught our family through our son Carson, but another volume could be written about how the Lord speaks to us through the wife and mother who is at the center of it all.

Preorder your copy of Hope When Life Unravels here.