I tugged the earphones off, tears brimming at the corners of my eyes.
Source
I took another glance at the clock, the minute hand was heading for 6 and the hour hand stood at 8, still, I wanted to sit and document some things Katy Nichole and Big Daddy Weave had reminded me of.
“We're going to be late!” My roommate called when she finished smoothening the edges of her hair with an old toothbrush.
“Just a couple more minutes!” I called back and then began to write.
Yes, God was in my story.
Katy Nichole & Big Daddy Weave - "God Is In This Story" (Official Music Video)
There had been 101 reasons to ask if God was truly in control of my life when I was growing up, but I remembered one particular incident that caused me to look back and say “Okay God, I see you”.
I had the privilege of saying my first words when I was a tiny, toddling person with barely any teeth. The resultant effect was that I was given a backpack and lunch box almost immediately and sent off to sit in a classroom packed with children my age.
By the time I was 12, I was preparing to go to secondary school, or so I thought.
I was seated at my father's table with a textbook labeled ‘Basic Science and Technology’ when I heard the main door to the house slam shut. My head snapped up, my father was to be home later when the evening breeze had made me drift off in slumber.
I scrambled down from his chair and closed the textbook just as I heard footsteps approaching. I could hear his voice too so I kept still to catch what he said.
“...I don't know how I'm going to tell her, she has been preparing so hard…”
My heartbeat doubled, he wasn't possibly talking about my upcoming BECE exams was he? I soon heard my name echoing through the halls of the house.
I stayed there in my father's room and waited for what I knew was coming.
“Treasure, I just spoke with your principal, registration for the BECE exams ends today.”
“So I'm not writing” It wasn't a question, it was confirming what I heard. He nodded and reached out his hand but I withdrew from him and left the room.
The feeling was inexplicable. I clutched at my chest as the overwhelming emotions threatened to tear me into pieces.
“God please…” I cried but by the end of that day, I still had not registered. I had to wait an extra year.
I remember turning my face away when my dad came into the room and refusing to take the phone to speak to my older ones at the university.
“She's not talking to anybody” I heard him say over the phone on one of those days.
He must have been talking to my older sister because she returned home almost a week later.
“Treasure,” she placed a hand around my shoulder, “Do you remember the prayer mummy used to make when she was still with us?”
“Mummy made so many prayers” I muttered.
“She used to pray that God should grant us the grace to recognize Him in every situation, good or bad.”
“God is not even doing anything!” I yelled back at her, “He cannot help Daddy afford something as important as my exams. Now I have to repeat a class I have already done and probably change schools because the shame would be too much if I return to my old school….”
She didn't let me finish before she threw her arms around me, I was sobbing uncontrollably.
“Treasure, we are yet to recognize what He is doing. Until then, let us hold on to what we know”
My sister was right then. I couldn't fathom what God was doing until a year later after I had finally taken the BECE exams and came out so well that my principal placed me on scholarship throughout my senior secondary school period.
“He let me stay at home for an extra year so I could study really hard and get a scholarship…” I was saying during Thanksgiving, just before I left for the boarding school I had been transferred to. The room was as calm as it had ever been on a Sunday morning.
“....But I couldn't see it till I let Him show me. Whatever you're going through, He will soon show Himself. It may take some time, but He will” When I returned the mic, there was no resounding applause accompanying my testimony, instead people rose to hug me, echoing the word I had waited so long to hear, “Congratulations”.
As I wrote the last word, I wiped the tears from my eyes and went over to join my roommate on the motorcycle she had hailed, gratitude washing over me.
