His Helper

3

The next morning, with my sisters at work and Unathi attending Saturday class, I found myself surrounded by three energetic boys, engaging in playful chaos around the house. Despite the running around and occasional squabbles, we opted for a soccer game, most of it involving kicking the ball through the fence.

Having prepared lunch earlier, I noticed their exhaustion, and soon, they succumbed to sleep. Seizing the quiet moment, I sat down in the living room, responding to text messages on my phone. Many were inquiries about whether I had enjoyed my birthday, including a message from Sandra. Our friendship had been growing stronger, and I appreciated having a friend outside of my family and school circle.

Despite the age difference, Sandra and I connected well. She, with her love for parties, understood my introverted nature. It was comforting to have someone in my life who shared in both the joy of celebrations and the quieter moments.

I expressed gratitude to her for her thoughtful gesture of asking some of the tellers to purchase my treats.

After chatting for a while, she mentioned that her tea time was ending, and since she was finishing work around one o'clock, she didn't want to take more time.

I took on the task of cleaning the house while the kids were still asleep, tossing our laundry into the washing machine and handwashing some items, ensuring our place stayed spick and span. We often shared chores, but I found joy in taking care of everything. I wrapped up quickly, just as the kids began to stir.

After completing the housework, I whipped up a meal for the kids and then decided to get a head start on dinner, planning to tackle the dishes once I finished washing up.

"You don't really like sharing chores; I thought I would help you out, but it seems like you've done almost everything," Unathi remarked, flopping onto the couch. "It's okay, I was bored," she laughed.

"Well, why didn't you focus on your writing?" I shook my head. "I prefer doing that when people are asleep, you know. It's not easy working while people keep asking you for something - messages and calls, it all gets to my mind," I explained to her, engrossed in her phone while I continued cooking, the boys playing with toys nearby.

As I cooked, my mind wandered to my writing journey. I began crafting children's stories in high school but lost interest over time. Eventually, I shifted to romance novels, drawing inspiration from my parents' relationship, observations of the world around me, and my own experiences, which started a year before I left for university.

I had a collection of manuscripts that I submitted to various publishing houses and the Department of Arts and Culture. Unfortunately, none were selected, receiving feedback like, "Your manuscript 'Hearts United In Secret' did not make it due to the need for significant editing and development." Despite the setbacks, I kept pushing.

Interestingly, the same manuscript landed a contract from a publishing company in the United Kingdom. I didn't pursue it seriously; I just wanted to see if their feedback mirrored the local responses.

It's disheartening facing rejection, but maintaining faith that the right time will come is crucial. Trust that the Lord will open the right doors for you. As one author wisely said, it's important to persevere despite the challenges - others may misuse or ignore your work, but keeping on writing and staying vigilant for opportunities prepares you for when the right chance comes along. Keep the faith in your journey as an author.

While a significant portion of my time was devoted to daydreaming and crafting stories, I also made a conscious effort to focus on my family. This included preparing dinner, so when my other sisters returned from work, we could gather, enjoy our meal, and engage in conversation. About thirty minutes later, I took a break to freshen up. Adhering to a family rule, we reserved the dining table for weekends and special occasions, donning dresses instead of casual wear.

We all gathered and said a prayer before sitting down to eat. The kids perched on the elevated bench as we discussed our week-sharing the ups and downs, celebrating achievements, and even joking about their potential marriages, leaving me with my non-existent love life.

The next morning, we all headed to church. Mine was a bit farther, so I took a taxi, while the others attended the local church. I used to go to that church, but as I grew up, it didn't quite resonate with me. There were too many rules, and something felt off. The one I attend now is more spiritual, and I've grown in my faith there. I feel at home, sensing my guide through the Holy Spirit. It's where I embraced Jesus as my lord and Saviour two years ago.

Returning home, revived by the Sunday message, the focus on the book of John lingered in my mind: “I have told you these things, so that you can have peace because of me. In this world you will have trouble. But be encouraged! I have won the battle over the world.” (John 16:33)

I made peace with everything in my life, opting to release the pain and anger, trusting that the Lord had already won my battles. I believed He would bring changes into my life, and I was prepared to face whatever came my way. Recognising that every journey has its ups and downs, obstacles, and interceptions, I found comfort in the assurance that the Lord was with me.

With a peaceful mind, I arrived home to find my sisters engaged in lively chatter while cooking. "Hey, guys," I greeted, to which they responded in unison. "Dinner will be done soon, but you can have a sandwich if you're hangry," Somila suggested. "I'll check on the kids to see if they want sandwiches, then I'll make one for myself," I said.

"Well, you can make one for yourself; those three just ate and had some leftover cake," she continued. I couldn't believe they allowed the kids to eat the cake. "I thought that was going to be part of the dessert," I remarked. "Well, since they'll probably be asleep by the time we eat dessert, it's fine. I don't even like when they go to bed high with all the sweets," Belinda explained.

Having finished my sandwich, I retreated to my bedroom, took a seat at my desk, and began jotting down thoughts in my diary. I wrote about my day, reflecting on the church service and the day's word, anticipating how it would carry me through the upcoming week. Despite regularly reading and meditating on the word of God, I always took the Sunday message seriously. It served as a profound guide, as I firmly believed that the Lord sent those messages with a purpose.

Feeling the peace that the Lord was about to bring changes into my life, I approached my pastor for a prayer, seeking his blessing. Unexpectedly, he uttered, "It's all up to you – everything in your life, including your family." Confusion clouded my expression, and tears welled up. In response, he embraced me, and in that hug, it felt like Jesus was comforting me. I cried more, and suddenly, it was as if a heavy burden lifted off my shoulders. I felt light and profoundly at peace. Now, I understood that my tranquility wasn't just from hearing His word but experiencing His peace in a profound way.

Eager to share a peaceful life with my siblings and loved ones, little did I know that an unforeseen storm was on the horizon.