I remember October 28, 2011 like it was yesterday. I was to return to Nigeria in three days because I wasn’t able to pay my school fees despite being given several deadlines. My visa was to expire five days later. So it was important for me to leave the UK if I didn’t want to become an illegal immigrant.
The tears that poured down my eyes could have filled a big drum. I couldn’t understand how or why God would let that happen. I prayed. I confessed. I believed. I felt positive that a miracle was going to happen. I served faithfully in church and I went over and beyond in my role as the Head of Administration of my church. Didn’t God say that He won’t forget my labour of love? I was confident that He was going to come through for me; that I would complete my MSc at Cranfield University and get a fantastic job with a consulting firm.
Oh how my hopes were dashed as November came closer day by day. I had to accept the inevitable when my dad called to tell me there was no money. I just had to come back. In tears I packed my things. I didn’t know what to tell my flatmates and classmates of five weeks.
“I’ll be back soon. Just need to sort out an emergency at home,” I told two of my classmates who saw me as I left my room on campus. I felt ashamed. Like I had failed. Everything felt black and bleak.
Sitting at the airport as I waited for my flight, I had lost all hope. What was going to happen to me, all my plans? Nigeria was not in my plan. As I got on the plane, my heart sunk even more. How could God allow this to happen to me?
It is interesting as I think back how I never said negative things about God. I was thoroughly disappointed, depressed but a part of me still believed something good would come out of it eventually. I got back home and for a month, I wallowed in depression. I cut off all contact with friends who were still abroad. I stayed home so no one would ask me stupid questions.
One day, I can’t really say what happened, I just decided to snap out of it. It was the first Sunday in December and I decided to go to a church. Any church. I went to one a few streets away from my house. It happened to be thanksgiving Sunday. If you see the way I danced ehn? You wouldn’t have believed I had been depressed for a month. That day, I felt joy. My situation hadn’t changed but I knew that everything was going to turn out well.
Six years down the line, I can tell you with great confidence that everything did turn out fine. Was it a smooth process? Of course not! Did it happen overnight? No. It took years to happen. But God was faithful and I chose to believe. My faith in God is so much stronger and I know that no matter what happens to me, it will end in victory for me.
Faith is simple yet so complex sometimes. How can I have faith when I am hurting? How can I have faith when the person I loved so much died of an illness we prayed to God earnestly about? Yes, faith doesn’t make sense sometimes but faith can move mountains. If you believe, all things will be possible for you. I didn’t say it; the Bible did. No matter what happens, choose to believe God. Choose to believe that He is in control and He has your back.
I hope this episode of Finding My Way blesses you. If you are struggling with having faith, I shared four ways to build and stretch your faith. Don’t stop believing in the faithfulness of God.