Matt’s Song - “The Hope I Know”
Matt Martin has known life with cancer more than he has known life without it. Diagnosed at 2 years old with ALL—Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia—Matt has faced 10 years of cancer, 8 relapses, being wheelchair-bound, brain tumors, bone marrow transplants, and what he calls his greatest challenge of all: his “annoying” little sister, Mackenzie. Yes, my friends, Matt is one heck of a fighter and the bravest 12-year-old I know.
Matt and I became friends through a Blue Skies retreat in WindMark Beach, FL, at the beginning of June 2025. Blue Skies is a ministry that takes families facing pediatric cancer on beach and mountain getaways in an effort to give them the gift of normalcy, time with family, and a much-needed break from the hospital room. No child should ever experience pediatric cancer—and after getting to know Matt, especially not him. On the first day of camp, Matt didn’t even make it to the beach before having to take a detour to the hospital due to a last-minute fever spike. This was normally how life happened for the Martins. However, if I’ve learned anything about Matt, it’s that he is not afraid of a challenge. Not much can keep him from cracking jokes, showing us the “right way” to catch a blue crab, and especially making an appearance at summer camp.
Matt was wheeled into camp after a night in the hospital, quickly making up for lost time. Although Matt and his family, of course, took a few hours to get used to having strangers weirdly know their names and be unusually nice to them, by lunchtime, Matt had become the star of the show. Quickly swarmed by volunteer kids his age, we watched as Matt went from being glued to his phone to going on tangents about the giant swordfish he caught, his love for anything outdoors, and, of course, some hilarious jokes about the power of farts. Surprised by how naturally the conversation flowed—as conversations between 12-year-old boys tend to do—we watched as Matt opened himself up to a week of normalcy and the possibility of unexpected friendships.
I had the honor of being his little sister’s new “forever best friend” and, apparently, her tree to climb, as I often felt her little body wrap around my legs while I was standing in conversation. She would simply look up and smile at me, saying, “I’m never leaving.” Usually, I would want to kick my leg free, but knowing that this precious girl was experiencing what no little sister should ever know, I welcomed it and let her stay there until I actually needed my leg to be a leg. Being little Mackenzie’s new best friend allowed me to get to know more about the Martin family—and especially allowed me to get to know Matt.
By the third day, we discovered that Matt loved to write songs, and that his dad had actually helped write and produce a song about how much Matt loves to hunt. For our western night, we even listened to their song, and everyone at camp loved it and enjoyed learning more about what makes Matt, Matt. After hearing about Matt’s love for songwriting, I knew Matt and I had to talk.
That afternoon, I found Matt and asked if he would be interested in writing a song together. His little face lit up, and with a wheel-shaking, head-bobbing “yes,” he agreed to a songwriting session. However, later that day, Matt’s fever spiked again, and they spent the rest of the night and the next day at a hospital in Panama City for more tests. The hospital was two hours away, and we had been told that they would probably head home instead of returning to camp. However, the Lord had something else in mind.
Thankfully, Matt was able to return to camp while awaiting the hospital’s call about the test results. In the time between the doctor’s call and Matt’s return, we were able to squeeze in a late-night songwriting session and a camp-wide crab hunt! Best night ever—am I right?! On a bench outside our camp’s usual meeting place, Matt, his father, and I gathered to write a song. They had nooo idea what they were getting into. Throwing out ideas about writing the next country hit about hunting, fishing, and loving every day, I had a feeling that one was already taken and gently asked Matt if he wanted to write a song about his journey with leukemia.
For the next 30 minutes, Matt began to share and write his story in such a beautiful and brave way. To give you just a glimpse into how we wrote his song: I asked Matt where he wanted to start, to which he answered, “Let’s start at the beginning,” and then he began to tell me about his cancer diagnosis at 2 years old, all the way up to now. As he told his story, ideas flooded my mind. He did the storytelling, and I simply helped put it all into lyrics. We went line by line, and by the end of it, Matt had written a beautiful song about what hope looked like to him.
I can’t lie—before Matt and I started writing, I was terrified to undergo the task of asking him to share his story and then turn it into a song. However, he welcomed it—and now we both have it stuck in our heads. Matt wanted the song to be about hope, because despite his circumstances, his hope is that he has friends and family who will never leave his side. He said that was the thing that has gotten him through all that he has been through. We wrote about that—the gift of community and the knowledge that, although the road Matt is walking is impossible, he is not alone. That’s the hope he knows, and that’s exactly what Matt’s song—and his life—is about. Time and time again, troubles, test results, and tragic diagnoses have come his way, but time and time again, he has overcome it all with courage. That’s not stopping anytime soon, according to Matt.
We found some chords Matt and his father liked, worked out the lyrics, and then—BOOM—in less than an hour, Matt had written an incredible song. Matt wanted to share his song with everyone, especially all his new camp friends, so I figured we would play it for the entire camp. However, his parents told me that at 10 a.m. the next morning, they were expecting a call from his doctors with the test results that would most likely mean they’d have to pack up and head home. I knew we needed to act fast. So without further ado, first thing the next morning, Matt put on his nicest pair of shoes, rolled up to the front, and joined me as we sang his song.
As I was singing alongside Matt, I looked around and saw other families facing pediatric cancer, our incredible volunteers, and his beautiful family—all listening with tears in their eyes to our brave and courageous Matt Martin. After a week of hearing so many moving and heavy stories like Matt, everyone knew how special Matts words were. At the end, I asked him to sing along, which he so boldly and bravely did. Together, we sang the hook: “That’s the hope I know,” as we both declared that hope was the truest thing, and that is the truth. No matter what, one day Matt will be completely healed—and in the meantime, he knows he is not and will never be alone. So, whatever his journey leads to on this earth, I will always remember this song and be reminded that in the face of any impossible darkness, none of us are alone—and that’s the hope I know.
Please continue to lift up Matt and his family, as Matt still has a long road ahead of him. If you are the praying type, please be praying for Matt and his precious family. Matt is now undergoing a new round of radiation. Please join us in prayer for full healing, continued comfort, and that Matt would continue to know he is not alone.
TO WATCH THE FULL SONG: https://youtu.be/FQX2M0XUhek?si=bJ8grORNOG3hUNvv
