I am not sure where to begin, because I have loved and known Jesus since age three. I believe and know that He has guided my life. Although things haven’t always gone the way I wanted them to, I do know that God has a plan for my life and directs me to do what is good for me.
My father died when I was only one year old. I did not know him. When I was three, I told my mother she needed to get a baby from the hospital. Our neighbor had brought hers home from the hospital, and I thought people went there to get babies. My mother told me that a baby is a gift from God. I asked how do we make God know we want a baby and she said that we ask God through prayers. I prayed every night. I never missed a day of church. My mother did not have the baby I had been praying for, but I began to understand that God had been providing other things for us.
When I was 15 years old, I went to church every day and listened to the sermons. I had to pay attention because the sermon was not just for me, but it was also for half the people in my African village. The closest church to us was four miles away. The older villagers could not trek that long. Returning home from church, I would stop at three to five compounds to retell the sermon.
My mother did not have the baby I had been praying for, but I began to understand that God had been providing other things for us.
One day I went to the principal of the high school and asked him if we could use one of the classrooms as a church. He was Presbyterian and he accepted. Another friend and I went to the presbytery, and they approved the church, but told us there was no pastor. We ran the church in the classroom for two years with a visiting pastor. It was close enough for all the villagers to attend. Today, there is a church on its own in this village with a full-time pastor. Praise the Lord.
At age 19, I graduated from high school and was planning to continue my studies in the United States. As an international student, I was to travel before Christmas of 1988. I prepared to pick up a form from the school which the embassy needed before my visa could be issued. The school was contacted and the form was sent via DHL carrier.
Cameroon does not have home addresses for their mailing system. Instead, the form I needed was to be delivered to a family friend named Mary at her work address. In the office where Mary worked was also a coworker named Marie. On Friday December 15th, The person delivering my form went to the office and asked for Mary. A co-worker pointed to the office of Marie, who had left town for Christmas vacation. The delivery person slipped the form under Marie’s locked office door. By Monday, I had not received the form, and had DHL track the mail to the locked office. My travel date of December 20 passed before we could get in contact with Marie. I was very upset with DHL.
This connecting flight was Pan Am 103, the airplane that was blown up by terrorists over Lockerbie, Scotland. The Lord was the one who, through DHL, delivered that mail to Marie instead of Mary.
Later I learned the horrible news. Because I missed my scheduled flight from Cameroon to Heathrow airport in London, I also missed my connecting flight from Heathrow to the United States on December 21, 1988. This connecting flight was Pan Am 103, the airplane that was blown up by terrorists over Lockerbie, Scotland. The Lord was the one who, through DHL, delivered that mail to Marie instead of Mary.
When I finally arrived in America, I attended Bowie State University in Maryland. My first day on campus, I had no money. I needed to get back to my house but did not have any dollars on me. The language was a barrier. I sat in one building wondering how I would get home. Finally, I decided to go to another building, and instead of walking on the sidewalk, I walked across the grass. Lying on the ground was a 10-dollar bill. I stood there prayed and thanked the Lord for providing my way home.
I love Jesus because he has shown me in several ways that he is alive, is with me, and continues to protect me.
More Faith Stories
I’d been drinking all day long and pulled out into the path of an oncoming vehicle with a with a woman and all of her children packed into this car. They T-boned me and at that moment everything went blank.
One Sunday the music director said the handbell choir needed more members. I thought, “No, I wasn’t ready to get involved.” At the end of the service I found myself volunteering for bell choir!
One Sunday afternoon I was sitting drunk in a bar, and I’m looking around. The only ones in the bar were the bartender, some shady looking guy in the corner, my ex-boyfriend’s mom, and me. I heard this voice in my head say, “What am I doing here?”
This past year I found a black dot on my thumbnail that looked like a pencil point. Nothing much to it. Then it became an abrasion at the end of my nail. My doctor referred me to an orthopedic surgeon who found it to be malignant skin cancer.
At that point I said, “I can’t do this myself. It’s in your hands, God.” That part I remember clearly. It turns out that it was really, really was up to Him (and a good surgeon).
So when drugs and alcohol came around, it was easy for me to say “yes,” because I didn’t have anything in me saying “no” anymore. As I got more involved with drugs, I got into more crime. I started committing violent crimes, selling drugs, abusing drugs ended up back up in prison.