This is My “Why”: I’m Doing It for Them

My heart is hurting today. Truth be told, it’s hurt a lot off and on for several months. The past few days I’ve been especially down, though. The reason why is a one-word answer, and I bet you can guess it. Yep… Cancer.

In our little childhood cancer community/family, it seems like sometimes there are spells of blow after blow. We’re always fighting together, but sometimes one family after another gets bad news, more bad news, and the worst news. It’s been like that lately.

I found out late Monday night that another one of Lincoln’s fellow childhood cancer warriors gained his angel wings that afternoon. Joey and his family went to the same Lighthouse Family Retreat we attended this past summer. I knew his mom before that, though, as we live less than half an hour away from each other.

Here are the beautiful, heartbreaking words my friend (Joey’s mom) shared about his passing:

“Our beautiful, sweet Joey returned to his Heavenly home this afternoon at 4:02 pm. He waited until all of his brothers returned home from school so we could all be together one last time. Joey was surrounded in all of our arms. It was more peaceful and more perfect than anything I could have ever imagined. I worried so much that it wouldn’t be… I’m grateful for this tender mercy. I desperately needed it to be peaceful.

Our hearts are broken, and we miss him so much already. Not quite sure how we’re gonna do this without him. Aliza said it best when she tearfully told us “then we won’t have enough people in my family.”

I’m sure Heavenly Father has something magnificent planned for Joey up there, but we certainly could have used him a lot longer down here.

Fly high my sweet boy. May you soar, play, run, be free, and forget all of those things that ever weighed you down and troubled your sweet and beautiful heart and soul. Please visit us often, in our thoughts, in our dreams, in our nights, and in our days. We love you so much my beautiful, sweet, perfect, angel, boy.💛💛💛💛💛💛”

When I first read about Joey’s passing, a big part of me felt like stopping the work I’ve been doing on some projects. I was sad and angry, and a little voice inside my head yelled, “What’s the point? Childhood cancer is SO MUCH BIGGER than me. What can raising my voice actually accomplish?” I felt that ever-returning feeling of survivor’s guilt that crops up more often than I’d like. Our sweet Lincoln is doing well, but not every parent has their prayers answered that way. I felt like it was selfish of me to be working on projects and promoting them when my dear friends are suffering from the loss of their amazing, young, innocent boy. 

After I’d cried and poured out my heart to the Lord, though, I felt an overwhelming conviction for the work I’m doing—the depths of which I hadn’t experienced before. More than anything, I wanted to take away the pain from my friends. I know I can’t do that, but I felt deep within my bones that spreading awareness and helping families going through similar trials is the best way I can honor Joey and his family.

Sometimes the adversary is really good at using compelling arguments to try to prevent us from doing what will make a positive impact on the world and those around us. I’d briefly thought that starting a podcast and growing my audience were selfish endeavors. After praying, though, I am 💯% convinced (again) that it’s exactly what I’m supposed to be doing, and it’s most definitely not selfish.

Not long ago I was telling my mom about how there have been a lot of sad, hard things happening in my friends’ kids’ cancer battles. She pointed out that it must be hard for me to continually remind myself of cancer fights, kids relapsing, losing warriors, etc. I acknowledged that it was, but it is also how I choose to mourn with those who mourn.

This is one of my favorite quotes:

“I love when people who have been through Hell walk out of the flames carrying buckets of water for those still consumed by the fire.”

~Stephanie Sparkles

That’s what I’m trying to do. 

As you probably already know (& might be sick of hearing about already 😉) I’m gearing up to launch my podcast—Finding Joy through Life’s Trials—in a little less than two weeks from today (on Boxing Day—Tuesday, December 26th)! I have so much work to do, and I feel ill-equipped to make the impact I so long to—to offer support, comfort, and love to families going through overwhelming challenges. However, I know that my Savior and so many others are by my side cheering me on.

I may sound like a broken record as I continually remind everyone of the reality of childhood cancer. I will not let fear or anything else silence me, though. Our kids are more precious than gold, and they deserve more. 

I’m doing this for Joey. I’m doing it for ZoeJane. I’m doing it for Jared. I’m doing it for Drue. I’m doing it for Kinley. I’m doing it for Daxton. I’m doing it for Gavin. I’m doing it for Savannah. I’m doing it for Kobin. I’m doing it for Paige. I’m doing it for Jack. I’m doing it for Beckham. I’m doing it for Lex. I’m doing it for Ethan. I’m doing it for Weston. I’m doing it for Ali. I’m doing it for Mak. I’m doing it for Xander. I’m doing it for Collin. I’m doing it for Indy. I’m doing it for Claire. I’m doing it for Quinton. I’m doing it for Hayes. I’m doing it for Nixon. I’m doing it for Millie. I’m doing it for Rebekah. I’m doing it for Riley. I’m doing it for Nick. 

Look at those names. Say them out loud. Honor them.

I’m getting on my soapbox/platform and shouting for the approximate 1,600 children and adolescents who still die of cancer each year in the United States alone. I’m doing it for all of their families. I’m doing it for all of the warriors still fighting and for all of their families. I’m doing it for all of the children who will be diagnosed with cancer in the future and for all of their families.

This is an especially difficult time of year for anyone who’s lost a loved one. Please pray for the Mendenhalls and for all of my other friends with childhood cancer angels. 

If you’re looking for an extra way to help my friends, please Venmo me (@Becca-Ingersoll) with “For Joey” in the notes, and I will get books to donate in his honor and give his family any leftover money.

I know my sorrow isn’t even a fraction of what my friends are feeling. I’m going to try to use it to motivate me to continue working to make a difference, though. I really hope you’ll join me. ❤️