In my last post (all of ten minutes ago), I made the comment that it’s hard to find the joy when your mama’s been given less than good news at the cancer hospital.  I did think of one thing, though:

My mama knows Jesus.  She grew up going to a little country church down the road from her parents’ little country home in East Texas.  It wasn’t until she was 28 years old that she accepted Jesus as her savior at a little Baptist church in Alvin, Texas.  She made plans to be baptized.  I started asking questions about what she was doing and I ended up getting saved, too, at the age of 8.  We were baptized at the same time.  She still chuckles when she reminds me that I said “Oooh, the water’s cold!” when I stepped into the baptistry, and the entire church could hear me.

We attended that little Baptist church for two or three years, and then when Mama started learning about the gifts of the Holy Spirit, we began attending the Apostolic Faith Church, eventually becoming members of Living Stones Church.  Through all the forty-three years since she was baptized, my mama has loved the Lord and read his word.  My sister and I observed, with tear-stained faces, that Mama is always so strong in a crisis.  Mama was quick to remind us, and has reminded us since, that whatever strength she has as we face this challenge ahead is not her own, but from the Lord.

I think there’s a great deal of joy in that.