His Helper

22

On our wedding day, I faced tests of faith, beliefs, and love for my new family, paralleled by Anele's own challenges. Despite the hurdles, we steadfastly stood by each other. However, my uncles introduced contradictions to my wedding plans, creating tension with my in-laws. Though unspoken, I sensed their discomfort with my refusal to participate in certain traditional rituals, like the goat ceremony, where I was expected to eat the meat and have it poured on me.

I boldly asserted my belief in being cleansed by the blood of Jesus, making it clear that I sought no part in rituals involving the sacrifice of animals. Anele, occupied with his own challenges, seemed distant, and even his usual check-ins were noticeably absent. Fortunately, Liyema stepped in, walking the kids to and from the bakery for their book club sessions. In the midst of these challenges, our commitment to each other and the values we held dear remained unwavering.

As I sought guidance through prayer, unsure of what to expect in a marriage where communication seemed strained, a dilemma unfolded. Feeling the weight of unspoken concerns, I knew the only resolution lay in addressing them during our pre-marriage counseling session with Mrs. Smith, the reverend's wife.

Anele candidly laid out his struggles, torn between respecting my values and appeasing his family, who insisted on the traditional role of the man as the head of the household. Mrs. Smith, perceptive and compassionate, delved into whether Anele's actions were rooted in genuine belief or societal expectations. Drawing on his previous marriage experience, she probed whether these practices had made a difference before.

In the midst of the discussion, my voice remained subdued. I was willing to compromise if Anele genuinely believed in the significance of these traditions. However, turmoil filled my heart, leading to sleepless nights after leaving the church. Anele was given a week to reflect on these questions—a week to seek guidance from God. Taking it as a sign, I decided to embark on my own spiritual journey, pouring my heart out to the Lord and seeking His presence during this crucial time of self-discovery and decision-making.

In a week that felt like a relentless battlefield, I embarked on a fast, seeking answers from God and entrusting Him to guide my husband to the right path. Instead of improvement, challenges mounted—the wedding plans went awry, the help for the wedding dress fell through, and financial strain crept in as the lobola budget exceeded its limits. Reluctant to burden Anele with additional financial concerns, I dipped into my own pocket, with my sisters pitching in from their savings.

As the week wore on, a day before our counseling session, I broke my fast, feeling like a walking zombie. Amidst the trials, the messages gleaned from reading the Word of God resonated: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." These words from 2 Timothy 4:7-8 became my anchor, affirming that, regardless of the battle's nature, victory was already secured in Jesus' name. The promise of the crown of righteousness and the Lord's reward fortified my spirit, providing solace as I anticipated the day when Anele's eyes, along with our family's spiritual vision, would be opened.

Anele poured out his struggle, expressing the difficulty of distancing himself from his roots and the teachings ingrained by his family, especially at a time when he felt he needed them the most. When it was my turn to share, I affirmed his freedom to follow his beliefs, but I made it clear that I wouldn't compromise my own. I insisted on mutual respect and support, hoping to find common ground.

As Mrs. Smith guided us back to the foundations of our decision to marry, emphasizing that marriage shouldn't be a battleground, an uneasiness lingered in the air. A conflicted Anele grappled with the weight of our differences.

That day, despite having stopped fasting, I abstained from eating or drinking. My heart was burdened with questions for the Lord, grappling with the disconnect between the message from Timothy and the challenges we faced. I had hoped for Anele to come back with a declaration of unity, but his conflicted stance left me unsettled.

Determined to distract myself, I threw myself into work, focused on payments and vendor management. However, after a couple of hours, my vision blurred unexpectedly, a phenomenon I initially attributed to the lighting in the room. Yet, as I continued to work, the blurred vision persisted, leaving me perplexed and searching for answers in the midst of my uncertainties.

🌤️In an otherworldly moment, I found myself surrounded by an unparalleled brightness, as if I were close to the sun. The clouds were pristine white, and the sky's hue was a mesmerizing blue. I sensed a presence behind me and, to my astonishment, saw my family—children playing joyfully around me, and Anele holding my hand, watching over them.

A voice echoed, declaring, "You are healed," but confusion clouded my mind. I wasn't aware of being sick. When I questioned the timing of my breakthrough, the response came in the form of another inquiry, "When are you turning thirty?" My answer, given without understanding, was in four years. Then, a captivating vision unfolded—a toddler, adorable and carefree, playing with a wooden boat between Liyema, Akhanani, and Nelisa.

As swiftly as the brilliance appeared, it vanished, replaced by the murmur of voices and the sound of people crying. Gradually, I regained awareness, opening my eyes to a room filled with people. Attempting to speak, I wasn't sure if they could hear me, but a collective gasp filled the air, followed by the words, "She's awake." The earthly light seemed dim compared to the ethereal radiance I had just encountered in that extraordinary moment.

In the quiet aftermath, as everyone exited the room, Anele and I were left alone. The air was heavy with unspoken emotions. When the doctor departed, Anele sat there, a storm of emotions raging in his eyes. Although he didn't shed tears, the pain etched on his face was palpable. He seemed angry, and a wave of fear enveloped me, silencing any words I might have spoken.

Tears streamed down my face, and in that moment, I found myself grappling with a man I didn't recognize—a distant and stoic Anele, unlike the loving, humorous partner who couldn't help but smile in my presence. The stark contrast left me unsettled, questioning the foundations of the relationship we had built.

In the midst of the heaviness, my thoughts drifted back to the vivid vision where everything was serene, where we were surrounded by a sense of peace. The disparity between the vision and the reality in that room deepened the ache within, as I yearned for the return of the Anele I knew and loved.

He rose from his seat, turning away and standing by the window. "Who do I get angry at now, you or God?" he uttered, breaking the silence that lingered. Unsure of how to respond, I remained silent, watching him. After a pause, he continued, "I already have a problem with Him, so I don't mind pointing all my rage at him."

When he turned to look at me, I sensed he expected me to absolve myself and place blame on God, yet I couldn't bring myself to do so. "I'm sorry," I whispered, wanting him to understand that I acknowledged my role in causing him pain. He shook his head, disbelieving, "You wouldn't. You wouldn't do that, knowing I would lose my sh*t, not when I just found peace in my life."

As he slowly approached the bed, emphasizing that his newfound peace was fragile, I realized that if his tranquility depended on me, he needed to search his heart. While my presence might have brought him peace, I was not the source of the peace he truly needed—he needed Jesus.

In that intense moment, even though I refrained from saying it aloud, I knew that in a clearer state of mind, I would have expressed those sentiments to him. Anele struggled to contain his anger, standing by the window, silently gazing at me. I found myself wishing I could witness my own state—hooked up to drips, surrounded by medical equipment, and the rhythmic beeping of heart monitors. The stark reality of the situation weighed heavily, leaving emotions unspoken and hanging in the air.