Latest update on Will Roberts: the next two days carry heavy anticipation as his family prepares for critical scans.

For the Roberts family, time has narrowed into a single, fragile window.

The next two days carry a weight that’s hard to explain unless you’ve lived inside it — the quiet dread before critical scans, when hope and fear sit side by side and neither lets go. For Will Roberts, 14, those scans will offer the clearest picture yet of where his fight against bone cancer truly stands.

A month ago, the news was devastating. Imaging revealed that the disease had spread extensively, reshaping the family’s understanding of the road ahead. The future they had been bracing for suddenly became steeper, more uncertain, and far more urgent. Since then, Will has transitioned to a chemotherapy pill — a treatment chosen not because it promised a cure, but because it offered a chance at something that feels almost as precious right now: stability.

His parents, Brittney and Jason, are not asking for miracles that erase everything overnight. Their prayer has become simpler — and heavier.

Please let it have stopped.

Not disappeared. Not reversed. Just stopped.

Because in the world of cancer, stopping the progression can mean time. Time to breathe. Time to live. Time for the body to recover enough to face what comes next.

Living in the In-Between

Will has learned to live in the in-between — between appointments and results, between optimism and realism, between being a teenager and being a patient. There are moments when he looks like any other 14-year-old, laughing or zoning out on his phone. And then there are moments when the weight of what he’s carrying becomes unmistakable.

The chemotherapy pill is gentler than earlier treatments, but it’s still a daily reminder that his body is fighting something relentless. Fatigue comes and goes. Appetite fluctuates. The emotional toll lingers quietly in the background, even on good days.

For Brittney and Jason, the hardest part isn’t the medical language or the logistics. It’s the waiting — the hours when nothing can be done except trust, pray, and hope that the scans will tell a better story than the last ones did.

A Moment That Shifted the Heart

On the eve of scan day, Brittney shared a moment that caught her by surprise — and softened her fear in a way she didn’t expect.

During church, as Will stepped forward to pray, her attention drifted. Not away from her son, but toward another mother’s child. A different family. A different struggle. A reminder that suffering doesn’t belong to one story or one household.

In that moment, Brittney says her heart recalibrated.

“It reminded me that pain wears many faces,” she shared. “And grace is still a choice, even when you’re terrified.”

It wasn’t a dramatic revelation. It didn’t remove the fear of the coming scans. But it grounded her — a quiet, holy pause before the hardest wait begins. A reminder that compassion doesn’t disappear when you’re hurting, and that faith can expand rather than contract under pressure.

What These Scans Mean

The upcoming scans will help doctors determine whether the chemotherapy pill has done what everyone is praying for — slowed or stopped the cancer’s progression. The results will guide decisions about next steps, treatment adjustments, and what kind of future planning the family may need to consider.

There’s no way to sugarcoat it: the stakes are high.

If the disease has stabilized, it buys time — and time is everything right now. If it hasn’t, the family will face another round of difficult conversations and decisions no parent wants to make for their child.

This is why the next two days feel so heavy. Every hour carries the same question: What will the scans show?

Standing on Faith Alone

In moments like this, when medicine reaches its limits and certainty disappears, the Roberts family is standing on faith alone.

Not faith that ignores reality — but faith that walks straight through it.

They are praying for strength to receive whatever news comes, and for peace that doesn’t depend on outcomes. They are praying for Will’s body, for wisdom for his doctors, and for the courage to keep showing up no matter what the images reveal.

And they are asking others to stand with them.

A Community Holding Its Breath

Over the past months, Will’s story has reached far beyond hospital walls. Messages of support, prayers, and encouragement have come from people who may never meet him but feel deeply connected to his fight.

That collective hope matters — especially now.

Because waiting is easier when you’re not alone.

Because fear is lighter when it’s shared.

And because sometimes, prayer feels like the only thing left to do — and the most powerful thing there is.

The Longest Two Days

As scan day approaches, the Roberts family is moving slowly, intentionally, holding each other a little tighter. There is no rushing through this moment. No skipping ahead to conclusions. Just breath by breath, step by step.

Whatever the scans reveal, Will is still Will — a brave 14-year-old fighting a battle far bigger than himself, surrounded by parents who love him fiercely and a community that refuses to stop hoping.

For now, the prayer remains simple.

Please let it have stopped.

Please keep Will, Brittney, and Jason in your thoughts over the next two days — and in your prayers for strength, peace, and good news.

👇 Read more updates below as the family waits together.