I guess ,as I would call it, this is the beginning of the end,a sentence I like to say whenever I try out something new and never really finish it, like writing a blog…”Rêrig??”. A word me and my best friend loves throwing around whenever we are together or apart. Like seriously? A blog Zia?
Yes. Really. A blog. (Can’t ask a question without answering.) *smile*
Growing up is probably one of the toughest things we as human beings have to go through…and it’s one of the things that never really stops. And I must say that for me growing up has been very interesting and daring at the same time. If i go back a year or two I would never have pictured myself or my life the way it is today. For me, then, staying with my parents and working at a place I really have no passion or love for , would have been my life long story. But…God had other plans.
I moved to Cape Town at the tender age of 21 for exactly the same job I did in my home town. Not just because it was more money but because I needed something new and different.. And this was exactly what I needed,new job, new people. Or at least what I, emphasis on the “I”, thought I needed.
Reminiscing back to four weeks before I got the call that I got the job. I was walking home from work one afternoon ,which is about 20 to 30 min walk depending on the day and my mood, deep in thought. I was thinking about life,love and youth. Greeting everyone as I walked and seeing the brokenness in our youth. Living for the next party or weekend to get wasted. Having children by men who have no sense of respecting a lady. I remember asking God: “Really? Will this be my future? Is this how I will end up?” Opening our front door I remember answering myself with certainty “No. Definitely not. There MUST be more.”
My parents disagreed with my decision to move and after the call they got from my aunt ,saying that I was in hospital after only 11 days in Cape Town, even I thought they were right. The thought crossed my mind, maybe this wasn’t His plan after all. Being highly favored and blessed a lady offered me a temporary stay at her place so I can be closer to work. Because traveling wouldn’t be good for me after the operation and it wasn’t advised. This move was gonna change my life forever.
I walked into a church that was going to become part of my life. Taking up most of my free hours and giving me more joy than I could ever have imagined. I became a Christ follower. Jesus became my personal Savior and has held my hand all the way.
I once thought why did i have to endure so much pain and have this hideous scar forever. I didn’t understand it then but i understand it now.
Whenever I look at my scar I am reminded that I was once stronger than something that could have killed me. That those 19 hours of pain was going to make me spiritually stronger. Crazy! I know right. I remember praying to God, asking Him to take my life because I could not endure this pain. Saying that I am not strong enough.
He proved me wrong.
He showed me that sometimes you have to be stronger and stay faithful in Him and trust that in the end, it will just make you stronger. I am still learning a lot about God and the love He has towards us, that still leaves me speechless at times.
I am blessed to be loved by Him.
And no scar will make Him love me any less. Never feel ashamed because of a scar. It will heal and be a reminder to you of something that you once went through but overcame.
Carry this scripture with you.
Philippians 4:13 “Because I master all things by The Messiah who empowers me.”