Heartbreak is not my home
I'm not a blogger, I don’t use social media, I don’t write, and I don’t express opinions. This is not really something I do.
However, I have been prompted to share my story. To give my testimony to demonstrate that there is hope in the darkest of times.
Almost 4 months ago, I lost my 6-year-old son Amos to cancer. It was sudden, it was unexpected, it was utterly tragic.
It began just a few weeks earlier. On the 14th March I took Amos into A&E. He had been to the doctor twice and had twice been diagnosed with a nasty chest infection. He had had antibiotics, but he was not improving. Tired, looking a little skinny, not quite himself. Nothing massively out of the ordinary. This was all over the space of about a week and a half. He had been prescribed a stronger antibiotic but due to a supplier issue it was not in stock. So, on that Monday morning I thought enough was enough. I took him in thinking he would just be prescribed another antibiotic and then we would be out for McDonalds - I had no idea of what was to come.
After a day of X-rays and CT scans we were facing an overnight stay at the hospital with what we were told could be pneumonia. Not ideal. Then we were called into *that* room.
Nothing prepares you for that. Nothing. We were told that Amos had a large tumour across his lungs. He was then rushed to Great Ormond Street Hospital (GOSH) and after lots of tests, diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.
I'm sorry what?
Acute Lympho- leuk- the C word? Cancer?
Nothing prepares you for that.
After 3 weeks of chemotherapy, surgeries, steroids he suddenly and quickly passed away. We were at home preparing to go to Great Ormond Street and it just... happened...I won’t go into details (this part is still too raw to recount) but we were rushed off in the ambulance where Amos went into cardiac arrest. They tried to resuscitate him for an hour but to no avail. We were then called into the room.
Nothing prepares you for that.
To lose a child at the age of 6, at the age of anything, is the most painful, surreal, gut-wrenching experience any human can go through.
Amos was a wonderful, wonderful little boy. Full of life, full of joy. Always dancing, joking, laughing. The 300 odd people that came to his thanksgiving service attest to how much he touched people’s lives.
I adored him so much. He made me a daddy. I would literally speed walk from work to get home so that we could play. Cars, Soldiers, pirates, dinosaurs, Lego. Man, what I would give to play some Lego with him. He really was my best friend.
He was also adored by his classmates, his teachers and of course his family. He was so kind, so loving and such an encourager to everyone. I was so massively proud of the boy he was. And was so looking forward to the great man he was going to become.
Myself, my wife Charlotte, Amos, and our daughter Aria were the four musketeers. We did everything together. Not a weekend would pass without ‘mems’ being made. Adventures whatever the weather. We had the best laughs, the best chats, and the best dances. We visited museums, forests, castles, beaches, cities, towns, countries. We visited friends, family all over the place. Always by train. We loved those train journeys. We just loved each other’s company and I felt so, so blessed that whatever else was happening in my life I would always have my beautiful little family and we would always be there for each other.
Nothing prepares you for that.
After 3 weeks of chemotherapy, surgeries, steroids he suddenly and quickly passed away. We were at home preparing to go to Great Ormond Street and it just... happened...I won’t go into details (this part is still too raw to recount) but we were rushed off in the ambulance where Amos went into cardiac arrest. They tried to resuscitate him for an hour but to no avail. We were then called into the room.
Nothing prepares you for that.
To lose a child at the age of 6, at the age of anything, is the most painful, surreal, gut-wrenching experience any human can go through.
Amos was a wonderful, wonderful little boy. Full of life, full of joy. Always dancing, joking, laughing. The 300 odd people that came to his thanksgiving service attest to how much he touched people’s lives.
I adored him so much. He made me a daddy. I would literally speed walk from work to get home so that we could play. Cars, Soldiers, pirates, dinosaurs, Lego. Man, what I would give to play some Lego with him. He really was my best friend.
He was also adored by his classmates, his teachers and of course his family. He was so kind, so loving and such an encourager to everyone. I was so massively proud of the boy he was. And was so looking forward to the great man he was going to become.
Myself, my wife Charlotte, Amos, and our daughter Aria were the four musketeers. We did everything together. Not a weekend would pass without ‘mems’ being made. Adventures whatever the weather. We had the best laughs, the best chats, and the best dances. We visited museums, forests, castles, beaches, cities, towns, countries. We visited friends, family all over the place. Always by train. We loved those train journeys. We just loved each other’s company and I felt so, so blessed that whatever else was happening in my life I would always have my beautiful little family and we would always be there for each other.
I never thought about serious illness. I definitely never thought about death. To be confronted with it is so surreal and changes you forever. It can be the making or breaking of you. I hope I’m in the former.
Faith
So why am I writing this?
I’m writing this because I want to share the incredible hope we have.
It’s funny. Before Amos became ill, I was teaching year 6 music lessons about the songs of WWII. We were listening to songs like ‘We’ll meet again’ by Vera Lynn. I really wanted the kids to grasp the concept of hope. I would explain how hope is scientifically proven to be the most powerful emotion humans can feel. Humans can do great things with hope. More so than with fear, sadness, anger, joy, even love.
So, what is this hope?
This hope is Jesus.
I’ve grown up with a Christian faith. I turned away from it when I was an early teenager only to return in my latter teenage years when I was in a really dark place. I experienced the Holy Spirit for the first time. Awesome I’m in. This stuff is real.
This sustained me for many years. And over those years I’ve had a pretty strong faith. Gone to church. Led worship. Played drums. You know ‘doing’ Christian. I knew who Jesus was. What he did for me. But did I really know it?
Since covid my faith had drifted. Being ‘in-between’ churches. General apathy setting in. Its amazing how far you can drift when you’re not anchored.
However. When Amos was first diagnosed, I turned to God. I trusted him. I believed he would be healed. So many people were praying for him. So many people looking for a miracle. At first it looked like he was. He was responding well to treatment. The tumour was being destroyed by the steroids. He was so much better in himself. Wow, God was moving. My faith was rising. I was telling fellow parents on the cancer ward to have faith. I was telling a homeless man named Reese who sat outside GOSH that Jesus loved him. That he knew him by name. So much faith.
And then Amos died.
My world caved in. The chaplain came. I told him to leave. The nurse prayed over him. I felt sick at her words. God was not real. And if he was. He had betrayed me. Why Lord? I had so much trust in you. Why would you let this happen? Amos loved you. He adored you. WHY!?
Faith
So why am I writing this?
I’m writing this because I want to share the incredible hope we have.
It’s funny. Before Amos became ill, I was teaching year 6 music lessons about the songs of WWII. We were listening to songs like ‘We’ll meet again’ by Vera Lynn. I really wanted the kids to grasp the concept of hope. I would explain how hope is scientifically proven to be the most powerful emotion humans can feel. Humans can do great things with hope. More so than with fear, sadness, anger, joy, even love.
So, what is this hope?
This hope is Jesus.
I’ve grown up with a Christian faith. I turned away from it when I was an early teenager only to return in my latter teenage years when I was in a really dark place. I experienced the Holy Spirit for the first time. Awesome I’m in. This stuff is real.
This sustained me for many years. And over those years I’ve had a pretty strong faith. Gone to church. Led worship. Played drums. You know ‘doing’ Christian. I knew who Jesus was. What he did for me. But did I really know it?
Since covid my faith had drifted. Being ‘in-between’ churches. General apathy setting in. Its amazing how far you can drift when you’re not anchored.
However. When Amos was first diagnosed, I turned to God. I trusted him. I believed he would be healed. So many people were praying for him. So many people looking for a miracle. At first it looked like he was. He was responding well to treatment. The tumour was being destroyed by the steroids. He was so much better in himself. Wow, God was moving. My faith was rising. I was telling fellow parents on the cancer ward to have faith. I was telling a homeless man named Reese who sat outside GOSH that Jesus loved him. That he knew him by name. So much faith.
And then Amos died.
My world caved in. The chaplain came. I told him to leave. The nurse prayed over him. I felt sick at her words. God was not real. And if he was. He had betrayed me. Why Lord? I had so much trust in you. Why would you let this happen? Amos loved you. He adored you. WHY!?
I saw one of our closest friends the next day. She’s a practising Muslim. I told her that not only had I lost my son, I had lost my faith.
I had no idea how I was going to continue living. I didn’t really want to. If this could happen to my son, it could happen to my wife, my daughter…what’s the point in this world? I was so, so lost. So heartbroken.
But God draws near to the broken hearted.
God has drawn near to us. It’s been nearly 4 months since Amos passed as I write. And in that time God has done amazing things. I can honestly say I believe in God more now than I did before. I’m more in awe and grateful for what Jesus did on the cross than I did previously.
I had no idea how I was going to continue living. I didn’t really want to. If this could happen to my son, it could happen to my wife, my daughter…what’s the point in this world? I was so, so lost. So heartbroken.
But God draws near to the broken hearted.
God has drawn near to us. It’s been nearly 4 months since Amos passed as I write. And in that time God has done amazing things. I can honestly say I believe in God more now than I did before. I’m more in awe and grateful for what Jesus did on the cross than I did previously.
Let me explain.
This world is broken. Scratch the surface of everyday life and the brokenness is there. Pain, sickness, anxiety, depression, death. It’s all there. Bad things happen all the time. And when they do we cry- ‘why would God let these things happen? they SHOULDN’T HAPPEN!’
But they should. Because the world has been shattered by our sin. It’s everywhere and we’re all responsible.
So why would anyone want to believe in a God of THAT world?
Well, this was not God’s design. Sin came into the world through Adam and Eve. They disobeyed God. They were tempted by Satan and fell short. They turned their back on a relationship with God and embraced sin. And humans have being doing it ever since. Read through the Bible. Read through your metro newspaper. It’s the one constant of this ever-changing world.
But God had a plan.
In John 3:16 it says this:
‘For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.’
God sent his son Jesus to die for us.
We demand justice for all the evil in the world and Jesus took all that sin, all that shame. The very wrath of God for US. The ones who deserved that punishment.
Jesus, who lived a sinless, blameless life. Who taught, healed, and fellow shipped with us, died on that cross in the most painful, awful way.
But that wasn’t the end.
Jesus was raised from the tomb three days later. Conquering sin. Conquering death. For God so loved the world.
And this is our hope.
After a long day of chemotherapy, I was carrying Amos up the stairs when he said to me ‘Daddy, there’s sickness in the world because of sin isn’t there?’ I don’t know how he knew this. I don’t remember telling him. But he knew Jesus. He had a relationship with him.
Jesus wants this relationship with us all. Childlike, carefree, father and son.
Because of what Jesus did on that cross I know I will see Amos again. I know I will spend eternity with him. However long I live on this earth I will miss my boy deeply. But hey, eternity is a long time.
In the meantime, God’s presence, and peace in the midst of this storm of sadness has been undeniable. To have the faith I have right now when I had none is not possible with human strength. It’s supernatural. Its God breathed.
God never promised us a pain free life. But what he did promise is that he would be with us in our darkest moments. And he has. As a family we have received visions of Amos in heaven. God has spoken to us. Through us. Even through our 4-year-old daughter. God really is with us.
And he will be with you also. Whatever you are facing in your life. Turn to him. Taste and see.
Lastly.
While in GOSH I would listen to fear is not my future by Brandon Lake on repeat. In the second half of that song, it would talk about death and still trusting in God. I would turn it off because I thought it wouldn’t apply to us. But it did. And in my pain, it still brought so much comfort. The chorus goes like this:
Fear is not my future
You are
Sickness is not my story
You are (You are)
Heartbreak's not my home
You are (You are), you are (You are)
Death is not the end, you are
(You are).
I refuse to make heartbreak my home.
But they should. Because the world has been shattered by our sin. It’s everywhere and we’re all responsible.
So why would anyone want to believe in a God of THAT world?
Well, this was not God’s design. Sin came into the world through Adam and Eve. They disobeyed God. They were tempted by Satan and fell short. They turned their back on a relationship with God and embraced sin. And humans have being doing it ever since. Read through the Bible. Read through your metro newspaper. It’s the one constant of this ever-changing world.
But God had a plan.
In John 3:16 it says this:
‘For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.’
God sent his son Jesus to die for us.
We demand justice for all the evil in the world and Jesus took all that sin, all that shame. The very wrath of God for US. The ones who deserved that punishment.
Jesus, who lived a sinless, blameless life. Who taught, healed, and fellow shipped with us, died on that cross in the most painful, awful way.
But that wasn’t the end.
Jesus was raised from the tomb three days later. Conquering sin. Conquering death. For God so loved the world.
And this is our hope.
After a long day of chemotherapy, I was carrying Amos up the stairs when he said to me ‘Daddy, there’s sickness in the world because of sin isn’t there?’ I don’t know how he knew this. I don’t remember telling him. But he knew Jesus. He had a relationship with him.
Jesus wants this relationship with us all. Childlike, carefree, father and son.
Because of what Jesus did on that cross I know I will see Amos again. I know I will spend eternity with him. However long I live on this earth I will miss my boy deeply. But hey, eternity is a long time.
In the meantime, God’s presence, and peace in the midst of this storm of sadness has been undeniable. To have the faith I have right now when I had none is not possible with human strength. It’s supernatural. Its God breathed.
God never promised us a pain free life. But what he did promise is that he would be with us in our darkest moments. And he has. As a family we have received visions of Amos in heaven. God has spoken to us. Through us. Even through our 4-year-old daughter. God really is with us.
And he will be with you also. Whatever you are facing in your life. Turn to him. Taste and see.
Lastly.
While in GOSH I would listen to fear is not my future by Brandon Lake on repeat. In the second half of that song, it would talk about death and still trusting in God. I would turn it off because I thought it wouldn’t apply to us. But it did. And in my pain, it still brought so much comfort. The chorus goes like this:
Fear is not my future
You are
Sickness is not my story
You are (You are)
Heartbreak's not my home
You are (You are), you are (You are)
Death is not the end, you are
(You are).
I refuse to make heartbreak my home.
In Proverbs 19:21 it says this:
‘Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.’
I don’t know what God’s plans are through this. But I know that when I stand before God it will be unveiled like the most beautiful tapestry ever seen. And I will bow before him. Praising the name of Jesus my savior.
And your saviour too.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulFGXnASE4Q ‘Fear is not my future’
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bj_9ikvCx6o ‘Fear is not my future’ (Acoustic version).
I don’t know what God’s plans are through this. But I know that when I stand before God it will be unveiled like the most beautiful tapestry ever seen. And I will bow before him. Praising the name of Jesus my savior.
And your saviour too.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulFGXnASE4Q ‘Fear is not my future’
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bj_9ikvCx6o ‘Fear is not my future’ (Acoustic version).
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