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"IT KIND OF HURTS" by Chuck MacDonald JONATHAN DAVIS IS 9. He owns a red toy Porsche, Hot Wheels and GoBots. He likes baseball, swimming and the Los Angeles Lakers. He has friends named Ryan, Nathan and Chad. He also suffers from leukemia and has a 55 percent chance of surviving to the age of 10. DECEMBER 8, 1986       Jay and Sandy Davis prepare for Christmas at home with their family, unaware that this evening they will embark on the sternest battle in their off-tested lives.       The evening begins as a festive one with Jay and Sandy helping 14-year-old Cynthia, 12-year-old Shelly, 11-year-old Sharis and 6-year-old Jonathan hang Christmas ornaments on the Christmas tree at their home.       The doorbell rings. Recognizing the family doctor at their door, Jay jokes, "Oh, I didn't know that doctors made house calls any more."       Dr. William Wilson doesn't smile. "Can I talk to you in private?" he asks.       Jay and Sandy lead the way to the family room. After the three sit, Dr. Wilson's words fall like anvils on the Davises' hearts: "Your son has leukemia."       Their lives will never be the same. OCTOBER 25, 1987       Jon's 103-degree temperature prompts a visit to the hospital. Doctors discover bacteria in his blood that is ripping its way through his nearly defenseless body. Sandy and the girls rush back to the hospital to find Jon in the intensive care unit. (Jay was in Mexico City at the time teach-ing at Campus Crusade's Institute of Biblical Studies for two weeks.)       With Jon bloated and his blood pressure dan-gerously low, doctors desperately search for an antibiotic that will curb the infection.       Through their tears, the Davis women see a freckle-faced boy at the edge of death. Sandy later recalls the moment:       "I looked at the girls and saw trickles of tears on their cheeks, then I looked at Jonathan and saw tears running out of his eyes onto the pil-low. I said 'What a pitiful group we are,' and we all started laughing at ourselves and crying at the same time. We stayed there praying for about 30 minutes before a nurse told us that a new antibiotic they tried seemed to be working and he had moved out of danger." MARCH 20, 1989       The sandy-haired fourth-grader appears com-pletely at home at Loma Linda University Medical Center. A few children clamber over the huge plastic building blocks in the waiting room. Others watch videos while they wait for their appointments. Jon prefers shooting a bas-ketball at an 8-foot-high hoop attached to a concrete wall in the courtyard.       When his time comes to visit the doctor, he strolls through the hallway with its soft lighting and blue, window-pane wallpaper. Nurses greet him with the friendly hellos of old friends rather than with an it's-just-another-patient attitude.       Jon is met by Dr. Antranik Bedros, one of the leading hematologists in the country. He swabs Jonathan's left arm with antiseptic, then straps a foot-long, yellowish, rubber hose around the boy's arm. This pressure causes a vein to pop up more prominently.       Dr. Bedros inserts the syringe and slowly injects the drugs into the vein. Jon's chemother-apy regimen involves eight different drugs over an eight-week cycle. Then the cycle begins anew. The treatment is scheduled for three years. If the cancer reappears, the three-year treatment must start over.       Jon stares impassively at the needle, not wincing at the pain, almost as though it is happening to someone else. To him, this is merely the latest in a series of pokes, pricks and pain.       "Jon is an example of a patient that we always like to have," Dr. Bedros says. "He tolerates these procedures very well."       Dr. Bedros has observed this family often during these stressful months. Of them he says, "Jay and Sandy are very positive people." And to them he says, "You have something that gives you inner peace. Not too many people have it."       Sandy quickly points out to the doctor, "You know that it's the Lord who gives us our strength."       THE DAVISES have had to rely on that strength many times during their 25-years with Campus Crusade. (Currently Jay supervises the training of new headquarters staff members as they participate in outreaches on a nearby college campus. Sandy is a full-time mom.) During the first seven years of their marriage, Jay and Sandy were informed by doctors that they would be unable to have any children. They had four after that.       Doctors also were unsure that Sandy would recover when she suffered a brain aneurysm (a blood vessel leaked inside her brain four weeks after Sharis was born). She recovered with only a loss of the sense of smell.       But this ordeal with Jon's leukemia is the sternest test of all.       "We are walking on a tightrope," Jay says, "because the chemotherapy suppresses the blood count, which makes him susceptible to other infections and diseases."       Because of Jon's suppressed immune system, a normal childhood disease like chicken pox could kill him. Twice he's been exposed to chicken pox at school, and Sandy had to drive an hour to the Red Cross clinic in Anaheim, Calif., to obtain serum to give him a temporary immunity. MAY 22, 1989       Today Jon again visits the clinic for a day-long chemotherapy treatment. He begins by giving the nurse the ring finger of his left hand (he always gives her the same finger), and she pricks it. Jon's face shows no emotion. Only a tensing of his leg muscles at the moment of impact shows that anything unusual is happening.       The nurse continues to squeeze the finger, bringing drop after drop of Jon's blood to the surface where she expertly suctions it into a long, eye-dropper-like tube. The blood test will show if he has a high enough white cell count to allow the all-day drugs. If he has a cold or his resistance to infection is not high enough, the session will be postponed.       His blood checks out OK. Jon moves to another room where he is connected to an i.v., which drips the chemotherapy into his system. Five other children lounge on couches in the big room watching TV or reading as they take similar treatment. One is in junior high, three are elementary-school age and one is a baby. Their faces reveal little of the trauma that they have gone through.       Jon doesn't talk much, doling out words much like a kid giving away hard-earned allowance money. Does he ever wonder why this is happening to him? "Kinda," he replies.       What's the toughest thing about leukemia? "When I have to stay inside all day and don't get to go out and play."       When asked about the bone marrow and spinal taps, treatments that elicit screams from many patients, Jon says in his classic under-statement, "Those kind of hurt." JUNE 2, 1989       Thirteen barefoot, swimsuit-clad boys and two girls engage in a balloon relay race in the Davises' backyard. Team members shriek with excitement over the competition. The race quickly con-cludes, and the victors choose their prizes.       Jon seems to be enjoying his birthday party, but since he rarely cracks a smile, it's hard to tell.       The party moves inside for pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey. The noise level is slightly louder than a heavy-metal concert.       The decibel level lowers as Sandy and Jay serve cake and ice cream. "We just try to make his life as normal as possible for a little boy," Sandy says. "It takes a lot of prayer and faith and trust."       Dealing with leukemia is much like life on a tightrope. A misstep carries with it a deadly, per-haps fatal, fall. Sandy points out that God's presence is with them on the tightrope. "We don't have the assurance that Jon is going to make it; but we have a real peace through the whole thing. Jon knows the Lord, and he's ready to meet the Lord."       She and the rest of her family have a balanc-ing rod to help them on their walk along the tightrope: "God says He won't allow us to go through any more than we can handle. I can remember when I was going through my brain surgery, I thought, No, I can't handle this. But then I remembered His promise that He wouldn't give me more than I could bear. God says we can go through these times because He'll be with us."