Let me tell you my story.
I'm resurfacing on my blog after a year long hiatus, prompted by an experience that shook me to my core. I contemplated the vulnerability of sharing this story that is so deeply personal. However; I was recently compelled to share this testimony; yearning to touch even one soul with the transformative power of the Lord.
My upbringing lacked a connection with the Lord; Jesus was merely a kind man, a doer of good deeds. I even resented Christianity in my own naive adolescence. It wasn't until 2010, when I met my now-husband, that our journey to church and joint baptism marked a turning point. Following my baptism I felt moved to change. I chose to let my hair grow. I made the decision to wear dresses and skirts. I decided to stop wearing make-up. I adjusted my habits, behaviors, all of it. For ten years of my life, I played the role of a Biblical woman never realizing my actions were in vain. Our baptism may have marked a turning point, but for a decade, my devotion felt superficial. My life remained stagnant, my marriage strained. That was until February 4, 2023. The day my relationship with the Lord evolved from a distant notion to profound force in my life.
It was a Saturday afternoon. We were all piled in the living room. Kids playing quietly and my husband and myself on the couch. I looked at my husband and sensed something was wrong. I asked what was bothering him and he hesitated to respond, I prodded for an answer. He responded with words that tied my stomach in a knot. Two church members had shared identical dreams of our 4-year-old daughter, Lily, facing an untimely death.
I wanted to pause and provide a bit of context regarding the two individuals from our church who shared this mutual dream. The first being our children's God-Father and the other being our Pastor’s daughter- a young woman deeply rooted in the word. Throughout her life, she has been blessed with numerous visions and dreams that have manifested into reality. Incredibly, she has predicted each of my pregnancies before I was aware of them. Among her prophetic dreams, one particular instance stands out: she dreamt of delivering her brother's eulogy prior to his unexpected death on February 2, 2020. Devastatingly, this premonition became true and she delivered his eulogy following his passing. Such experiences have forged an unshakable trust in her insights and revelations within me.
I looked at my husband in disbelief and shock. I forcefully whispered “No!” My body was tingling and my surroundings seemed dreamlike. A wave of nausea rushed over me and I vomited in the bathroom. I ran to my bedroom, locked my door and threw myself onto the chest at the foot of my bed. I sobbed. I couldn’t ask my husband for reassurance. My pastor at the time was in Africa, unreachable. I had nothing. I cried out to the only other Being I knew to seek assurance . I cried out to the Lord with such fierceness and intensity. I asked, “Why?” I begged and pleaded to the air. I sought forgiveness. I sputtered meaningless excuses. I remember the final words I spoke to Him before He answered. “What have I done?” Suddenly His response was so bold and clear – "What effort have you given me?" The truth pierced through my distractions, revealing my lacking commitment and superficial love for Him. The reality of His words sunk in. My mind began racing as I recognized all of my shortcomings in that brief moment. What time had I set aside for Him? What effort had I given? I sifted through my file of memories. All I could gather were the infrequent five minutes before bed, the brief moments of desperation needing answered prayers, and every half hearted Sunday morning. My heart sank to the pit of my stomach as I recognized my lacking effort. A God who adored me so intensely, who’d blessed me so graciously. I hadn’t had a moment to spare, to give thanks, to praise, to worship.
For months prior to this moment I had been battling an addiction to social media and seeking validation from others. I was obsessively minimizing my belongings wrongly believing my “stuff” was hindering my connection with God. I’d spend countless hours scrolling Pinterest or YouTube. I’d get lost on Facebook. The enemy had his grasp on me. His deceptive tool was also my weakness, resting in the palm of my hand. I wrote numerous blogs about spending less time on my phone and on things that matter. How to slow down. How to be present. Meanwhile I was riddled with debilitating anxiety. Intensely stressed, severely depressed and rushing through life without purpose. Hypocrite.
A new found commitment surged. I stood to my feet and grabbed my phone. I deleted every social media account from my phone. I deleted YouTube. I deleted any and all apps that were causing a distraction. I vowed in my heart to spend intentional time with Him, devote myself, leaving distractions behind and never looking back. I returned to my knees and pleaded. I asked for a clear answer. I prayed over my bible with such sincerity and an entirely new appreciation for God and His authority. In a moment of crisis, I sought solace in His word, and He answered. I opened my bible with one motion to Mark 5:34. I read the following words of Jesus. "Daughter," He said to her, "your faith has made you well. Go in peace and be free from your affliction." My eyes were led directly down to Mark 5:36 “Do not be afraid, only believe.” I continued to Mark 5:39 “Why make this commotion and weep? The little girl is not dead, but sleeping.” And I finished with Mark 5:41 “Talitha Cumi, which is translated, little girl I say to you, arise.”
His word was vindicated. He heard my cry. He recognized my sincerity and he answered my prayer. He put my heart at ease in that very moment. Speaking to me that my daughter is and will be alive and well.
That Sunday prior to church I went to the altar to pray and thank God for the clarity He had revealed to me and the assurance He had provided me. In such a short period of time my world had completely shifted. I was so fragile and broken. The Lord knew what would move me to Him. He knew the love I had for my children. He knew the way to my heart and how to remind me that He is Almighty. For the first time in my life I recognized His power and authority over my life, that I was merciful to His will. I understood “God fearing love.” A love so intense and deep and reverent. I was so defeated and could do nothing but rest in His presence.
The following day I was standing at my kitchen sink doing dishes in the early morning. Processing all that had happened over the last two days as I scrubbed away. I was glancing at my reflection in my mirrored window above my sink, when suddenly I felt as though I was jolted awake. I had it. I didn’t know what I had, but I had it. My heart swelled within me. Tears came to my eyes. I was filled with an overwhelming love and joy. My love for the Lord in that moment was indescribable. My anxiety dissolved. My depression lifted. This void in my heart had been filled instantly like I’d never experienced. I was complete, content, in love, elated. I received the Holy Spirit into my heart and I was whole.
I shared the news with my husband over the phone. His excitement was tangible. We spoke until the wee hours of the morning the following day. We understood each other on an entirely different level. Our conversations were deep, our love for each other grew. I had found what I was missing. My heart was soaring. Life felt surreal. There was such an intense beauty to the world around me. I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I was in love with my Creator like I never knew existed.
The journey, however, had its fragility. Fast forward to September 14th when Lily underwent a routine tonsillectomy. The surgery was seamless and she returned home to recover. We approached the ten-day mark post-operation, signaling the conclusion of the critical recovery phase. We believed that the worst was behind us. 4:30 am on September 24th, Lily happened to be sleeping beside me. She woke up and tapped on my shoulder. “Mama, I think my nose is bleeding.” I sat up to notice blood coming from her nose. I grabbed a tissue to dab it and place some pressure before looking down. Her pillow was saturated in blood. The comforter was covered. Within a minute of her waking, blood started pouring from her mouth and nose. She began coughing on and gulping blood. Lily was hemorrhaging. She was rushed to the hospital where she underwent emergency surgery; the blood pumped from her stomach and the tonsillectomy site re-cauterized.
I learned shortly after this experience, that nearly 500,000 tonsillectomies are performed each year and only 1-4% of those cases result in delayed post-operative hemorrhages. By God’s grace Lily woke up that morning. By God’s grace she’s here with us today and thriving. I wholeheartedly believe that this experience with Lily was what we prayed up for in February of this past year.
Through this ordeal, I recognized a divine blessing in disguise. A testament of prayer and His faithfulness. His guiding hand delivered me from my depression, anxiety and personal addictions and led me to a place of peace and newly discovered purpose. He protected my daughter, and He saved me. In sharing my experience, I aim to inspire others to seek the Lord, for in Him, they too may find solace, strength, and an unwavering source of love that surpasses all understanding. In such a corrupt, broken world, I’m led to spread a little light. The Lord is just as present for you as He is for me. He is patiently knocking, you just have to be willing to answer.
"I was lost, but now I'm found. I was blind, but now I see." - Matthew 6:33
Comments