Waiting for scan results is a fear no family ever truly gets used to.

It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve done it. The days leading up to the scan feel heavy. The waiting afterward feels endless. Every hour stretches longer than it should. For families walking through childhood illness, waiting can feel like holding your breath for weeks.

Mac’s family knows that feeling well.

Mac is only five years old—yet hospital halls and MRI rooms are already familiar to her. Places no child should know by heart. Places that have become part of her story far too early.

A Summer Filled With Fear and Questions

This past summer was especially hard.

An earlier scan raised frightening questions—questions no parent wants to hear, questions that linger late at night when the house is quiet and worry has room to grow. As the next MRI approached, the weight of those questions followed Mac’s family everywhere.

Every prayer whispered in the dark carried the same hope.
Every moment of waiting carried the same fear.

When scan day arrived this month, it carried the weight of an entire summer.

The News They Were Hoping For

And then—relief.

Mac’s MRI results came back stable.
No growth.
No new spots.

For families walking this road, stable is not just a medical word. It is a moment to exhale. A pause in the storm. A reminder that today, things are holding steady.

It doesn’t mean the fight is over. But it means that for now, the ground beneath their feet is firm.

Life Doesn’t Return to Normal — It Redefines Itself

Even with good news, life doesn’t suddenly become easy.

Mac’s days are still filled with appointments, side effects, and long stretches of waiting. Her family still lives by schedules, follow-ups, and careful watchfulness. The fear doesn’t disappear—it simply learns to share space with gratitude.

But faith keeps them standing.

Faith that carried them through the summer.
Faith that held them during the wait.
Faith that continues to guide them forward, one day at a time.

Still Fighting With a Fierce Little Heart

Mac’s strength is impossible to miss.

She is sporty and spunky. She loves Minnie Mouse and cheers proudly for the Green Bay Packers. She is curious, energetic, and full of personality—everything a five-year-old should be.

Her tumor may be stable, but her fight continues. And she meets it not with bitterness, but with determination and joy. Her courage shows up in small, powerful ways—in showing up for appointments, in facing tests she shouldn’t have to understand, in continuing to be herself even when her body is tired.

She reminds everyone around her that strength doesn’t always look serious. Sometimes, it looks like a child smiling through it all.

When Good Wishes Truly Matter

Mac’s shirt says it simply: Your good wishes give me strength.

And it’s true.

For families walking through childhood illness, knowing they are not alone matters deeply. A message of encouragement. A prayer whispered by someone they’ve never met. A moment of kindness shared across distance.

These things do not cure illness—but they strengthen hearts. They remind families that their child matters beyond hospital walls. That people are holding them in thought and prayer.

Gratitude in the Middle of the Journey

Today, Mac’s family gives thanks.

They thank God for stable scans.
For no new growth.
For a moment of relief after a long, heavy summer.

They know the road ahead is still long. But gratitude gives them strength to keep going. It reminds them that even in the middle of an ongoing fight, there are moments worth celebrating.

Why Mac’s Story Matters

Mac’s journey is one of many unfolding quietly around the world. Childhood illness doesn’t always come with loud announcements. Often, it lives in waiting rooms, in whispered prayers, in families learning how to balance fear and hope at the same time.

Stories like Mac’s remind us to slow down. To appreciate health. To notice resilience when it appears in small bodies with big hearts.

They remind us that stability is not small. That faith is not passive. And that love—shared through encouragement—has real power.

A Call for Continued Prayer 🤍

Today, Mac is stable.
Today, she is standing.
Today, she is still fighting.

If her story touched your heart, keep her in your prayers. Send her good wishes. Carry her name with you for a moment today.

Because sometimes, the strongest fighters are five years old. And sometimes, your kindness is exactly what helps them keep going.