Last night was rough.

It was a reminder that the cancer journey is full of highs and lows, often within the same 24 hours.

On Monday, we received the best news we've had yet. Liam's MRI showed that his tumor has shrunk tremendously for this stage of treatment. It was such a joyful, hope-filled day.

Yesterday morning brought another answered prayer. Before chemo, Liam had his hearing screening (hearing loss is a possible side effect of one of his chemotherapy drugs), and he passed with no changes at all.

Two huge answers to prayer.

*The tumor is shrinking.
* His hearing remains unaffected.

These are prayers Steven and I have prayed over and over, and we know so many of you have been faithfully praying them too. Thank you. We see those prayers being answered.

Then came chemo cycle 3.

We had a much longer wait than usual to be admitted, which meant a later start to treatment. I think the waiting got the best of his nerves. I also wonder if the emotional high of hearing, "The tumor is shrinking!" suddenly collided with the reality of, "But I still have to keep doing treatments that make me so sick."

Add in the fact that we were already adjusting his DI medication because of the time zone change, he had to remove his nausea patch for Monday's MRI and had just put on a new one, and it just became one of those nights where everything seemed to pile up.

Around 8:30 last night, Liam got sick and threw up his DI medication.

That meant his body couldn't regulate fluids the way it normally does.

For hours, it was an endless cycle of drinking...going to the bathroom...drinking...going to the bathroom...over and over until around 4:00 this morning when he quietly looked at me and said,

"Mom, I really don't think my DI medicine is working."

Not long after, he got sick again.

The team worked to get medications back on board, and thankfully he was finally able to get some much-needed rest around 7:30 this morning.

There are pros and cons to a night owl marrying a morning person, but one thing we've always appreciated is how it's helped us care for our kids.

Steven took the night shift as I am always morning duty. Between caring for Liam, he watched the delayed FIFA match while I unintentionally dozed off in the hospital chair that has become my bed. I wasn't planning to fall asleep—I was trying so hard to stay awake with them—but exhaustion won. I never even reclined the chair all the way, so now I have a pain running from my neck into my back to match the stiff neck Steven has been battling for the past month.

Cancer is exhausting.

But even in the exhaustion...I see God.

I see Him in the MRI results.

I see Him in a hearing test with no changes.

I see Him in nurses who respond quickly.

I see Him in a husband who faithfully takes the overnight shift.

I see Him in friends and family who continue to pray.

I see Him in the hope that this treatment is working.

We may have moments where we feel weak.

We may carry aches, exhaustion, and tears.

But there is light at the end of this cancer journey.

And even more importantly, there is The Light who walks with us through every storm, every sleepless night, every answered prayer, and every hard day in between.

Thank you for continuing to pray. We feel them. We need them. And we're praising God for every glimpse of His faithfulness along the way.