It took years for me to realize that God never turned his back on me throughout my ordeal, but was in fact there with me all along. It was him who nudged me and gave me that little burst of strength (I passed out and was blocking the door) to move my body so that the firemen and EMS could reach in and drag me off the bathroom floor. It was God, who whispered in my mom’s ear as I was being rushed back to the operating room that I would live and not die.
For years I harbored anger, bitterness and resentment for my circumstances, but through praying and fasting God gave me a revelation. My pain wasn’t in vain and my journey was made harder by my reaction to the situation. Instead of glorying in the fact that I was still here, still present on this earth I became upset and complained that I had to endure this walk alone.
Through an almost tragic situation, God turned things around and showed that he’s still a miracle worker. It humbles me every time I think about how fragile life really is.