My phone rings and I see that it’s my grandma.

I happily answer “Hey mama!”

She said “Hey sugar lump.” But her voice was different. Something was off.

She immediately started with “You know me and you talk everyday. I’ve already told my children and now I want to tell you.”

My breath caught in my throat as I stared out the window and I thought about her children. My mom, aunt and uncle.

The mass that she felt last month but told me it was nothing to worry about.

I think I truly forgot to breathe as cars honked behind me because the light had turned green. I pressed the gas and lurched forward, still without speaking any words. She kept talking and said “The good news is that we caught it early. The doctor says that’s real good baby. I’m going to see an oncologist in two weeks.”

My silence had finally been broken as I erupted into tears. “Awww CeCe don’t you cry. I’m not crying you hear? I’m going to be just fine baby.”

Here she was delivering me life altering news about her own life and yet was still making sure I was okay.

I sucked up the snot that had threatened to make its ugly appearance on my face and told her I was okay. “Okay okay, I’m okay. Are you okay? Oh my God mama, I’m sorry.”

She reassured me again that she was indeed alright but she had more calls to make. We ended the call with our usual “I love you’s” and just like that, a 75 second phone call had rocked my world.

I thought about  my grandma who us older grandkids affectionately call Mama. Ever since I could remember she’s been a praying and God fearing woman. There was never a time of the day or night that you couldn’t call her and she wouldn’t pray with and over you. She’s always filled with an unexplainable joy. You could take everything from her and she would still have joy and say “As long as my Jesus loves me that’s all I need!” Tears started to come back as I thought about our countless conversations. Her countless prayers over my life. The lives of her children, her grandchildren, great grandchildren, and her family. I thought about all the times my grandma had let me lay my head on her bosom and she allowed me to give all my problems to her. She’d comfort me and say there always ways to give them all to God. I immediately started questioning Him. Why her? She’d never had so much as a cold. Why now? Our family still needed to be put back together. I asked him a hundred questions and got no answers. I was met with silence. Over the next few days, I’d cry at night at the thought of cancer in my grandmother’s body. I cried at the what if’s.

I finally called on the day of our usual weekly calls, Wednesdays. I asked if she was alright and if she was in pain. She told me no and still I cried. And yet, she was still strong. She said, “Why not me CeCe? I want God to use me to show everyone that miracles do happen. My greatest desire is to be more like Him everyday.”

I cried harder. She started speaking in tongues and praising God. I cried even harder. If only I had her strength and her faith. I came home feeling defeated. I didn’t want our conversations to be filled with my tears. Then I remembered something she had always told me since I was kid.

Simply call his name over and over. And that’s just what I did in the middle of my bathroom floor. I called out to Him and asked for him to heal my grandma. I had to be on the floor for a good 5-7 minutes drenched in my own tears, face red and swollen, and my head was throbbing but as she always promised, I was comforted. He comforted me and in that moment I knew that she would be just fine. Because she had always been a prayer warrior and had instilled the power of prayer and faith in me, I knew that God would heal her.