“Tiffany,” his tone was serious, “there is a tumor the size of a grapefruit in your chest, but stay calm. It doesn’t mean the tumor is automatically cancer … it could be benign. We won’t know until we get a biopsy.”
I fell to my knees and finally got it … I was not ready to meet Jesus, nor was I worthy of it. Empty excuses were all that remained as to why I did not do what I’d promised God. I wanted to walk through the gates of heaven and hear, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” (Matthew 25:21) But I had failed him—the Almighty. I had not shown anyone the way like I promised my mother I would. What if God was done with me?
I wasn’t prepared for that. We had just come out of a huge battle, and now Satan was telling me he was coming for my beloved? I wasn’t ready for another fight, but I knew how to battle the Evil One. My prayer warriors taught me that I was going to have to live it out one prayer after another.