For the whole month of February, I will be posting a letter of gratitude to the people who have contributed immensely to the woman I am today. Some letters I’m thinking of sending to those I’ve written about and some I hope are never read. This will be the first time I post daily. So I am really keen on seeing how it will turn out, both for me and for those who follow this blog. I look forward to your thoughts and feedback in the comments section below. The theme for all the letters is that ‘We Are Stories’ and I will be telling mine in #29LettersOfGratitude for a whole month. If you would like to join me (PLEASE DO!!!) remember to link me in your posts.
I’m a mess; a completely muddled up and confused mess without God. I was only able to acknowledge this when I was in varsity. I watched a show on television and I ticked every symptom for chronic depression that they had listed. It dawned on me slowly the next day that I was in fact sick and I’d probably been since I was a child. After a long time spent crying over my self-diagnosis, I reached for my phone to call my best friend Sihle. As I was about to dial her number, a voice spoke into my spirit ‘Talk to God about it first.’
And that voice for me was the ultimate turning point to a decade of hopelessness and sadness. I smiled more often and over time I could actually laugh with a happy heart. The prayer wasn’t a magic wand but it opened a door for God to bring healing into my miserable life.
The first time I went to church this year, the preacher said ‘every ugly we’ve ever been through can never be greater than God’s Love for us.’ That stuck with me for the longest time… My whole entire existence came flashing before my eyes. I remembered the burden of every bitter memory of my life. I could still be carrying all its weight, the open scars and my disobedience all on my shoulders but I don’t, only because Jesus took my place. I know He lives because He’s breathed life into my dry bones. When I settled for contentment, He gave me joy and abundant peace instead.
There is also something I’ve been coming across a lot lately in the past few weeks that’s really had me on my knees weeping each time, a simple sentence stating that ‘He has my name written on His palm,’ I am that loved and intimately known by God to be imprinted on the insides of His firm grip.
When I feel lonely and most destitute and I still won’t turn to Him, sure enough His goodness and mercy keeps seeking me out. Even when I stutter and lose my way, He is consistent and always faithful. I only have a testimony of His unconditional love. I am kept, I am free from bondage and I am wonderfully His ❤
Cover Photo By: Smangaliso Tshabalala
Who’s carried you through all your hopeless places? When you look back, what are you most grateful for?