I found this unpublished draft just now. I started writing it 2 years ago when we found out that Mom had breast cancer:
Mom doesn’t usually make it to church on Sunday, but this Easter Sunday she was determined. I was helping her get dressed, and when I pulled her nightie over her head, I noticed a quarter-sized discoloration and puckering on her breast. Not wanting to call attention to it before the service, I quieted my fears and helped her fasten her bra.
As my husband preached that morning, I thought about the secret I was keeping from him, and I prayed for his mom and him. He’s such a good son. He cares deeply for his mom and treats her with such love and respect. He was so happy to have her in church that morning, and she just glowed with love as she listened to her son tell about the Risen Savior.
I didn’t know what the days ahead would hold, but my husband’s words from the pulpit reminded me that I could put all this in God’s Hands. When the last hymn was announced, I helped Mom get to her feet, and she sang with all of us, strong and sure:
Lo! Jesus meets us, risen from the tomb; lovingly he greets us, scatters fear and gloom; Let the church with gladness, hymns of triumph sing, for her Lord now liveth, Death hath lost its sting.
Thine be the glory, risen conquering Son; Endless is the victory, thou o’er death hast won!