A Testimony Shared by Sister M.

When I was younger I used to witness my mother praying beside her bed on many occasions. On many of those occasions, she would kneel down while she was sobbing. My father was physically abusive to her, but her friends never knew anything about it. She was a very private lady, and she never wanted to burden anyone with her problems.

So many tears were shed during those prayers, but what I couldn’t understand at the time was that she always got up from praying and had an expression of joy on her face. How could she have so much joy through so much anguish?

It wasn’t until years later that I came to understand that same feeling. Before passing away, my husband suffered from a chronic illness. He was sick for a year before he passed away and was in need of constant care. My family and friends were there to help so I could work at the market to bring enough money and food home to feed our family.

One day I was late in getting to the market and lost my spot to someone else. There was no room to set up my booth, and nowhere else to go to sell fruit, eggs and other goods, so I returned home frustrated. I wouldn’t be able to sell the next day because it was a Sabbath. We had enough food to last a couple of days, so I wasn’t overly concerned about the situation but frustrated at myself for not getting there earlier.

When I returned home, my brother told me that my husband had suffered a heart attack and that the doctors said he was not likely to survive. So we got everyone together, along with the children, and some blankets in the truck to rush to hospital. Then the truck’s engine wouldn’t start. At that point, my youngest daughter began complaining about her stomach causing her pain, and with no further notice, she got sick on the floorboard of the truck. With no way to get my daughter to the doctor at this late hour and no way to get to my husband who was dying in hospital, I knew that only the Father would be the One to make a way for us. So I prayed.

I prayed to our heavenly Father, asking Him that if it was His will, please help get us to the hospital. There I could see what was wrong with my daughter and I would be able to see my husband. I then heard the words, “Pray together. Do not stop praying.” I turned to my brother, who is also a believer, and told him what I had heard. I said, “If what I heard is from our Creator, then we need to pray together and pray now. But if it is not from the Creator, we should pray anyway.” So we prayed for almost thirty minutes, giving the Father thanks for His blessings, and asking Him to make a way for us. As we started to recite Psalms in honour of the Father, my sister-in-law drove up in her car. Thanks be to the Father! He made a way for us. So we went to hospital where I was able to get treatment for my daughter and to see my husband.

I was in tears during those intense prayers, but I felt a warm feeling that came over me which comforted me. I now knew how my mother felt when she prayed in such desperation. During that hour of darkness, the Father was there to hold my head up and give me joy in His light.

Being a Faithist, to me, means acknowledging Jehovih as the ultimate Source of our very being, and for our hearts being uplifted and encouraged. Serving the One Eternal Almighty, worshipping Him alone and being obedient to His Commandments, acting in accord with His Will and giving Him praise and thanksgiving, is what it means to be a true Faithist.

From the September 2016 issue of the Kosmon Herald.