The miracle of "just"

i knew she had a lump, and neither of us was worried.
after all, mama had cystic breasts, and we figured that would be our normal someday, too.
she scheduled her long-delayed well-woman, expecting to be... well.
and then there was a scare.
the gravity in a doctor's voice and the change in his shoulder stance speaks in undertones heard louder than thunder.
cancer, they think.
this is where i try to remember to breathe. i cry instead, as does she, we crying fear together but across a too-long-distance phone call.
testing done, more images taken, the lump becomes carcinoma in-situ and needs biopsies. these, words we grew up with, surrounded by cancer because our mom worked at a prominent childhood cancer hospital, and now they are language applied not overheard.
she saw the pathologist, and a miracle broke: just a ruptured cyst, they said.
this is where i tried to remember to breathe. i cried instead. we still cling in gratitude for health and prayers heard.


this is obviously the shortened version of a very real scare that my identical sister went through in august (can it just have been 4 weeks ago?). i share it here both to chronicle but also to invite you, always, to share in praise for His hand on her, on us, as we bowed low under fear of breast cancer and even scarier potentials. He is good no matter how He answered us, and i'm eternally grateful that in this instance my sister is cancer-free.