A ROOM FULL OF HEARTS
A Story of Faith Being Shaped by God’s Love, written by Chelsea Bishop
Going around the table one at a time that early January, we participated in an activity to share with extended family something we wished for that year. As it got to five-year-old Navy’s turn, she stated her wish so confidently, “A room full of hearts!”
Navy was in her third year of what turned out to be a six year cancer battle of fighting refractory stage four high risk neuroblastoma. It is a cancer found typically in young toddlers and fought with an intense regimen of virtually every type of cancer treatment possible: surgery, chemotherapy, radiation, immunotherapy, over and over in a myriad of combinations.
Navy’s affinity for hearts grew when her aunt gave her a heart blanket the year prior. It had turned into warrior-Navy’s shield, held tightly over her right chest where her implanted port resided. This small spot on her body held so much pain, anxiety, and PTSD from poke after poke. Heart blankie bravely protected her and comforted her.
Navy also loved to draw hearts! She loved writing letters to cousins and mailing them off with carefully chosen stamps and hearts drawn on the cards, with a “, Navy” at the bottom.
So, although it sounded far-fetched for a five-year old’s wish- not a new toy, video game, or trip- when Navy declared her “room full of hearts” wish that January morning, it didn’t shock us that it was a dream swirling around in her head.
In February of that year, we were in the middle of a monthly inpatient treatment regimen with chemo and immunotherapy together. She was hooked up to the medicine via an IV pump for 14 hours every day for four days. During the infusion, she had to be closely monitored as many side effects could happen quickly: fevers, blood pressure, heart rate and breathing issues weren’t unexpected, and intense nerve pain required the use of a pain pump for any hope of relief. She spent a lot of time in bed during this type of treatment, and we would try to distract her as much as possible. It was so difficult watching her go through these hard treatments. During this time, it really made me contemplate our mortality and what this life is all about. Sometimes it was hard to rely on Christ or turn it over to Him when I was having to work so hard and make so many decisions. I am truly grateful for a bedrock of faith and scripture study from previous years so I could ride on that faith for some time. Even so, we often felt downtrodden and in the trenches of life’s trials.
It was a lovely surprise amid this heavy season of painfilled treatments when my siblings approached me and asked if they could surprise Navy with a “room full of hearts” for her inpatient hospital stay. After all, it was close to Valentine’s Day, too! A social media campaign was started, shared, and spread, and hearts were flown in from all around the country and even some from the other side of the world!
That hospital stay, I spent hours hanging handmade hearts in her hospital room— it completely filled up walls and brightened the room! We would read the messages of hope and see pictures other kids had drawn. Their messages of hope encouraged us to keep going and helped us feel the love surrounding us. My siblings’ desire was to grant Navy’s wish, but what they didn’t know was that “room full of hearts” is what I needed, too.
This experience led me to see what a room full of hearts means in my life. When have I been in rooms full of hearts? Could I have eyes to see when I’m in rooms full of hearts? I remembered a scripture that showed me that God could be with me always; could one way to feel God be through others? Joshua 1:9 says, “Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”
I began to see “a room full of hearts” as a type of witness to God's love on earth. I would look around the rooms we were in and see that we were being cradled and cared for during this particularly tough time on our road. Rooms of caring nurses and doctors, rooms of family support, and rooms of friends checking in on us. In the Bible the word angel is sometimes used as a reference to people on earth, and I believe we were surrounded by heavenly angels and also earthly angels during our cancer fight with Navy.
As we proceeded forward with Navy's treatment, we also proceeded forward with life. Navy started first grade, she took piano lessons, and dance. Oh, how our Navy-girl loved to dance! All throughout her cancer treatment that coming year, we had a lot of hope for a cure. Unfortunately, in the spring of her first grade year, tumors were found to have spread to her lungs. For her type of cancer, our doctor had never seen anyone live for much longer after finding tumors in the lungs. Although she seemed like our miracle child in the sense of a cure and continuing to live while fighting a terrible disease, this felt like the start of the end.
Navy’s fight with cancer was a rollercoaster I never wanted to be on, but I would never get off sitting next to her side. We would have fought forever if God willed that.
Navy's body grew weaker and the cancer was getting smarter and sneakier, mutating as it willed along the way. Navy passed away a week after her ninth birthday.
On a Saturday morning soon after her passing, I walked into the chapel room with Navy’s younger sister, my six-year-old, next to me. This was a service I never quite wanted to attend or even plan. I grasped my paper, which had words written for the message I was going to share about my daughter. They were words which could never convey the love I had for her. I looked around to take in what this all was and what it meant. As I did, I witnessed a vast room full of hearts. People were there to support and love and lift. Friends and family were the hearts who had been carrying us and being true examples of Christ.
If I didn’t have eyes to see this along the way, I would have missed this moment. The depths are too deep sometimes to lift our eyes to see the good. I’m grateful I could see that kind of good along the way. I know that God is love, and by experiencing so many examples of love around us, it helped me feel closer to God during this time. It has shaped me and shown me examples of how to truly love.
Since Navy’s passing God has continued to bless me with “eyes to see.” One day, a while after Navy passed, I was reflecting and looking at the couch in our family room. The couch where she had laid so many days when she was not feeling well now looked so empty. I missed her. I laid my head down in her exact spot and caught a glimpse of Navy’s perspective as I looked out the window. Our house is quite close to many other houses, but in that spot, looking out that window, the sky is so expansive. I had no idea that had been her view: the sky so blue, clouds moving by, the sun shining, a mountain top in the distance. I liked the thought that the heavens could shine down on her in the spot she so frequently laid, angels watching over her. As I laid there, I was able to have a sweet moment of reflection and feel a sense of the bigger picture in all of this. I felt God’s love for us and was thankful for the eyes to see it.
This August will be three years since Navy’s passing. Since then we have had a couple new additions to our family. We fostered two little ones and eventually adopted both. We feel so grateful to have them in our family now. Our second oldest, Riley, has stepped into the big sister role that she got to see Navy playing, and it has been so wonderful to see her take on that role! Time has moved so slowly in some ways and so quickly in others. I think we will always feel a hole in our lives without Navy, but to me that is evidence of how much love is shared between us all.
Navy’s room full of hearts continues to live on. It lives on through us. As we strive to love the way Navy loved, we can be a witness of God’s love on earth.
