About a week ago, I called a friend to rush me to hospital because I had chest pains that made it difficult to breathe; as if that was not enough I had the most severe stomach cramps. It felt like my insides were being torn apart. I was scared and in pain. When people always say, they saw their life flash before their eyes; I think it was at that moment that it finally made sense to me. For a split second there, I thought I would just stop breathing completely. As the car sped off to the emergency room, I thought of my child and niece and it was not justified that I wouldn’t be there for them in the future. They still needed me, here, on earth, alive and kicking as they say.
I was admitted and put on a drip, which didn’t seem
to be working for the first few hours I was there (for all I know it could have
been a few minutes that felt like hours considering the situation that I was
in) and the assistant nurse injected me with something that would supposedly
make me sleepy and a bit drowsy. I was completely vulnerable, not even able to
hold on to the act that I play so well of being tough. I was frail and needy,
needing my mother the same way; I felt my daughter needed me. I think that was
the thought that kept me going; knowing that giving up was not an option, no
matter how uncomfortable I was from the pain.
I spent 3 not so lovely days in hospital and I just
wanted to be home with my children. (Don’t get lost, I do still only have one
biological child but my niece is practically like my own and another girl, aged
17 that’s been living with me for a few months now – they’re all my babies). I
had thought I don’t want my little one to see me in that situation but I missed
her too much, I needed to see for myself that she was okay. So Sunday morning I
asked them to bring her to see me, she was obviously oblivious to what was
happening as she was playing and pulling the drip, which seemed to fascinate
her. I enjoyed the little time that we spent together before they all had to
leave as visiting hours were over.
On Monday the Dr said I could go home but I had to
come back in a week for a sonar to monitor the progress I was making and to
check on that growth I spoke about not so long ago. I was booked off for a week
but being the person I am, one day at home, in bed was more than enough for me.
I therefore decided to go back to work on Wednesday.
I received a please call me message from Dineo while
on lunch that Wednesday afternoon. She’s the girl I mentioned who lives with me;
she had just come back from school only to find that the house had been broken
into. The burglars had somehow unlocked the burglar door, smashed the side
window of the door and unlocked it. All my clothes were unpacked from the
wardrobes and thrown on the floor, the house looked like a Tsunami had just hit
it. My handbags were searched and also scattered on the floor. They had taken
my Samsung tablet, a cellphone, CD collection, perfumes and other small items.
I was shaken and felt so violated, the thought of a stranger in my home,
searching and going through my stuff was unnerving.
We went to the police station that evening to report
the crime and were told that the forensic guys who take fingerprints did not
work at night, so we were adviced not to touch anything till they came there to
take fingerprints. Really? Were we supposed to just sleep with clothes all over
the floor, with a door and burglar that was not locked. That didn’t make sense
to me and knowing how the police in our area operate, I really didn’t have any
hope of them catching the people who did that, let alone actually coming
through to take those fingerprints. And with those thoughts, I resolved it was
pointless waiting and had both the door and burglar fixed that night which
meant no fingerprints to take when they would eventually come.
The point of this blog is this; it felt like every
bad thing that could possibly happen was happening. Then my mentor called me to
ask how I was doing after she heard that my house had been broken into and it
was while we were talking that it came to me. Just before your greatest
blessing, comes your greatest test. It may feel like you are being torn apart,
that you are mend to break but I realise that the things I had to go through
were just God’s way of moulding me, making me stronger. Taking me down to
nothing so that I may learn that He was up to something.
Sometimes our tests overwhelm us, we feel like we
are given too much when the truth is, we really should trust our ability to
face what life throws our way. The fact that God has chosen you for a
particular problem means that He believes in you, He knows that you have what
it takes to make it, to overcome. Bad things do not happen to us to destroy us
but to teach us to surrender control and to refine us, so that we are exactly
as God intended us to be. He makes us fight and struggle, to test our spirit,
to see how badly we may want something in our lives. And just before He gives
us His answer, He tightens the belt a little bit, He makes the road a little
bit steeper and it’s at the point that we receive the crown of glory for
persevering if we do not give up.
I found great comfort in this, in knowing that
whatever may be happening in my life right now, the best is still yet to come. All
I have to do is hold on a little bit longer and trust in God’s perfect timing.
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