"Unbroken Threads: A Woman's Journey Through Hardship and Purpose"

God is Faithful

In the words of my dear grandmother, my imagination was a captivating wonder, one to cherish and behold. She went as far as to suggest that perhaps I was engaged in conversations with angels, a testament to the depth of my creativity and the beauty of my thoughts.

Knowing how delicate and sensitive creativity can be, she took a stand against the use of the word "crazy" in relation to my gifts. She understood that, at times, those who failed to comprehend the brilliance of imagination might resort to this hurtful term to stifle my creative spirit. With her wise and loving guidance, she banned the word from my life, shielding me from discouragement and empowering me to embrace my uniqueness.

Thanks to my grandmother's unwavering support, I've grown to understand the value of my imagination and creativity. I've learned to cherish the moments when my mind wanders to unknown realms, where angels and wonders reside. And with every brushstroke of my imagination's canvas, I celebrate the precious gift I possess, nurtured by the love and wisdom of my grandmother's words.

Though it might sound unconventional, I hold a firm belief that even before reaching the tender age of one, I was already entangled in spiritual warfare. It is an unseen conflict that surrounds us, an invisible battle that we face each day, pitted against a cunning adversary who schemes against us. As Paul wisely advises, we must prepare ourselves, putting on spiritual armor to firmly hold our ground in this ceaseless struggle.

I don't have a first-hand memory of this event as I hadn't even reached the age of one, but I was told that my mom was walking down the stairs when she slipped and accidentally dropped me. Thankfully, it seemed that divine intervention was at play, and God safeguarded me.

My first memory that I can truly testify to as God safeguarding me was when I was three years old, my family and I were at a local swimming pool. My mom instructed me to stay seated at the edge of the pool and not move, while the older kids around me were having a great time, laughing, and splashing. Somehow, without any awareness of how it happened, I ended up at the bottom of the pool. I vividly recall desperately trying to reach the surface, seeing everyone from beneath the water's surface. It was a frightening moment, but then relief washed over me when I saw my mom rushing to my rescue, jumping in to save me. I couldn't tell how long I was down, but I remember how grateful I was to be saved.

At the age of five I came down with a nasty infection and was prescribed medication to treat It. Some type of antibiotic. I was at my dad's place while my mom was at work when I began feeling unwell and decided to lay down for a nap. Later, when my mom came to pick me up after work, my dad tried to wake me up but I was so groggy that opening my eyes was a struggle. I managed to mumble that I couldn't get up or move my legs.

Concerned and confused, my parents rushed me to the hospital where I remember feeling an overwhelming fear of death as they wheeled me away. I was in critical condition, and things were touch and go for a moment. Thankfully, the medical staff was able to stabilize me, but due to the severity of the situation, I was transferred to a Children's Hospital where I stayed for two weeks.

The Children's hospital was far from home and mommy had to work. I had to be a big girl and stay by myself most of the day. My family and I held onto the belief that God was watching over me, guiding the hands of the healthcare professionals, and ultimately ensuring my recovery. It remains a powerful reminder of the importance of faith and the miracles that can happen even in the darkest moments.

This would not be the last time that I would witness the healing hands of God. He stayed with me even when I strayed far from him.