Joy in the Journey: The Light We Found During Emma’s Leukemia Treatment

To truly share my daughter Emma’s story (you can read it here), I have to go beyond the facts and hardships. It wouldn’t feel complete without acknowledging the incredible light we discovered along the way, because as I’ve come to learn joy can exist even in the toughest circumstances.

A brave 11-year-old cancer survivor at a Lighthouse retreat taught me that happiness is not the same as Joy. Happiness tends to be external and temporary,  often tied to circumstances or material things, while joy is deeper. Joy is internal and lasting often comes from deeper, meaningful experiences like connection, gratitude, faith, love, or personal growth. 

Through Emma’s treatment, moments of joy found us in unexpected ways. It wasn’t about pretending everything was okay; it was about seeing glimmers of light even when it wasn’t.

The People Who Brought Us Light

For nearly three years, Emma lived in isolation—first due to COVID, then because of her treatment. But through it all, we were reminded we weren’t alone. Acts of kindness—meal trains, thoughtful notes, care packages, and endless prayers—were constant rays of light. Each gesture made such an impact, and I cherish them so much. I remember every detail and name in my heart with deep gratitude. These acts of love and support meant the world to us and left an indelible mark on our hearts. Our family and friends from Guatemala went above and beyond to show us love and support during that time, proving that distance was no obstacle when it came to being there for us.

Doc McStuffins helped Emma understand medical procedures and made hospital visits feel a little less scary. It turned those moments into small adventures. Doc McStuffins became like Emma’s security blanket. Throughout her entire treatment, it was the only show she wanted to watch. Whenever something felt scary or overwhelming, she would ask to watch an episode, finding comfort and reassurance in its familiar stories.

 

 

The Little Things

There’s a song that says, “You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.” As a cancer family, we lived this truth. Cancer takes away so much—routine, stability, and even the smallest everyday moments, little things, we often overlook or even take for granted.

For us, being at home together became a treasure. The chaos of siblings, the comfort of snuggling on the couch, being able to attend school and even the sound of laughter filling the house—all things we missed deeply during hospital stays. It’s funny how the simplest moments become the most meaningful.

 

 

The Power of Community

In this journey—and in any hardship, really—everyone feels alone until they meet someone who can truly relate to their struggles. One of the most profound gifts we received was the community we found at Lighthouse.  Twice, we were surrounded by families who deeply understood what we were going through. Together, we laughed, cried, and began to heal.

The volunteers, with their boundless energy and servant hearts, made us feel deeply loved and seen. Through them, we experienced God’s love in a way we will never forget. Now, months later, I can confidently say they sparked a deeper connection with God in our lives. I wrote about our experience the first time we attended—you can read it 
here.

Even my local community rallied around us. When I shared Emma’s diagnosis on Instagram, the outpouring of support was overwhelming. Strangers turned into friends, offering meals, prayers, and even places to rest near the hospital. The Cypress Mom Network went above and beyond, hosting fundraisers like a Mommy & Me event with Kendra Scott to support childhood cancer awareness. 

 

Finding Purpose

When Emma was diagnosed, I felt the need to channel our pain into purpose. Just two months later, we participated in Alex’s Lemonade Stand Foundation’s Million Mile Challenge, raising awareness and funds for childhood cancer research. Over time, this became a cherished family tradition, with lemonade stands that our girls eagerly look forward to every year.

Emma was also an honored hero for two Leukemia & Lymphoma Society events in 2023 which showed us just how powerful community support can be. The first was the Student Visionaries of the Year, where we met passionate young leaders who not only broke records but doubled them. Their energy and dedication were inspiring.

 

The second was Light the Night, which was filled with unforgettable moments. We had the chance to meet Dr. Pette, who years ago was a leukemia patient at Texas Children’s Hospital, just like Emma. It was incredible to see how far she has come and the hope her story brings. We also celebrated Emma’s end of treatment with friends and family, some traveling all the way from Guatemala to be there. Being surrounded by so many cancer families and supporters at Light the Night made the event truly special—it was an experience we’ll always remember.

On a more personal level, two months before Emma entered the maintenance phase of her treatment, I joined a wellness group that gave me a new sense of purpose: to become the best version of myself, one day at a time. This wasn’t just about regaining control—it was about prioritizing my mental health. The group encouraged me to commit to daily practices for my body, mind, and soul, which included daily workouts. At first, the idea of working out felt impossible. Weeks before, I struggled to find energy or time for myself, and it even felt hard to move. But as I committed to the workouts, I found a new source of energy and strength. The group also introduced me to invaluable growth tools like The Miracle Morning, which completely transformed my days. These practices not only helped me personally, but they also allowed me to show up as my best self for my family.

 

The Bridges That Carry Us

As Joanna Gaines beautifully writes, “Bridges carry us forward. They connect us—first through our stories, then through others’ stories.” During this journey, we built bridges with other cancer families. These connections were so natural, so organic, it’s hard to put into words. It’s a mutual lifting up, a shared understanding that doesn’t need explanation grounded in empathy.

From week one, we found ourselves surrounded by support—friends connecting us with families who had already walked this path, their guidance and compassion was a hug to our heart. Just months later, I received my first call from a friend referring another family whose child had just been diagnosed. It was then that I realized the importance of this unspoken chain of support. Together, we hold the rope steady for the next family crossing the bridge, ensuring they know they’re not alone. It’s a cycle of giving and receiving that turns hardship into connection and hope.

 

Light Through Organizations

Many of the organizations that supported us were founded by cancer families, and their impact was immeasurable. They are shining examples of the powerful bridges built by families who have walked this road, creating pathways of hope, support, and compassion for others.

 

• • Luke’s Fast Breaks was founded by a family who experienced childhood cancer firsthand, they have a deep commitment to easing the treatment process, and they sent us port-access shirts that made treatments easier.

• • The Gold Hope Project, was created by parents who wanted to give back after their own battle with cancer, founded to capture precious memories, help us captured beautiful family photos we’ll treasure forever.

• • Hug Your People, a group dedicated to providing comfort, gifted Emma a wagon filled with love, making her weakest days easier.

• • Camping Out from Cancer, was inspired by a family who wanted to bring joy to other cancer families, and they created an unforgettable at-home camping experience for us.

 

• • Our Amazing Fighters, a nonprofit focused on uplifting childhood cancer patients, sent Emma a custom warrior blanket and thoughtful gifts.

Many other organizations were incredibly helpful, like Beads of Courage, Make-A-Wish, and Strong Little Souls. Although they weren’t founded by cancer families, they recognized the profound impact they could have and wanted to make a difference—how amazing is that?! These acts of kindness became lifelines, powerful reminders of the compassion that exists even in the hardest times.

 

Celebrating Milestones

Celebrations took on new meaning during Emma’s treatment as we celebrated everything—birthdays, treatment stages, and even tough weeks. When there wasn’t a milestone, we created one, like the day we celebrate Emma’s “pretend birthday” and baked and decorated a cake together, giving her moment of happiness and help her push through steroid week. The grand finale was a Make-A-Wish trip to Orlando, where Emma met Doc McStuffins. Seeing her face light up reminded us that even in hardship, there’s always room for magic and hope.

 

Music

I will write a special post just dedicated to the effects of music during hardship. For me this is one of the most powerful tools to release emotions, uplift, inspire and comfort. On the weeks before Emma was diagnosed I turned on our turn table several nights and played the Bob Marley vinyl,  I comfort her in my arms until she got sleep singing “everything is gonna be ok” days later whenever when we were at the hospital I played the song after several days being in patient, she began to dance and her mood immediately shift. Emma specially loves music I can see how she feels it, she comforted herself with lullabies and sweet tunes. I used several times music as a tool not just to release pain but to up lift our mood.

 

 

The Beach

The beach became our happy place, space where we could reconnect, embraced by the soothing rhythm of the sand, water, and fresh air. A spontaneous trip to Galveston, sparked by my older daughter’s simple suggestion, reminded us of the beauty and joy life holds beyond the shadow of cancer. Our time with Lighthouse, attending retreats for a week over two years, brought us some of our most cherished family memories—further deepening our bond with the beach. It wasn’t just the calmness, it was the light and joy the beach brought us, offering us moments of happiness and hope during treatment.

 

A Final Thought

If you’re walking through a hard season, seek the small moments of light. Write them down. Hold onto them. They won’t erase the pain, but they’ll remind you that joy can exist even in the darkest times.