Call (eBook)

Chapter 2

The Call: The Cost of Deception

South Africa meant so much to me. It was a country of many firsts, but most importantly, I had freedom for the first time of my life. I vowed to gain control of my life and never feel vulnerable again. It was just a preview of what was to come, because later, the United States would mold me even further. She would take what started in South Africa and make it into a beautiful, finished product. She would bring restoration and meaning to my life. In the end, I would share a love story with her.

At the beginning of this journey, life was not easy for me in South Africa. I had no support, and I was still being threatened by my abusers; I was told to return home or “be dealt with” permanently. However, I refused to contemplate any threats; besides, my country of origin was then going through civil wars. It seemed that I had no choice either way—I had to stay safe.

So, I stayed in South Africa and endured the hard times. Because I had decided that it was better to die homeless and happy on the streets in South Africa than to go back to my former life, I did not look back. I was gone forever, free at last, or so I thought. Years later I found out that I was not yet free from my past. Over the years, my abusers still maintained control over me. It was not until 2016 that I finally severed the ties and tasted true freedom.

During my time in South Africa, I considered myself one of the “luckiest” people because an old white South African took an interest in me my first week there. The first time we met at his office, he offered me a job. He told me that he thought I was bright; besides, for a person coming from a French-speaking country, I could communicate in English, which was what he was looking for.

At first, I was suspicious because of his country’s history and because he was offering me a job with no strings attached and no questions asked. I refused the offer that time, but two weeks later, after the reality of running out of the means to support myself kicked in, I went back, and the offer was still on the table. At the time, I was sharing a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment, with a huge living room, with my roommates in one of the most dangerous areas of the city.

While living there, I saw the needs of other refugees who were struggling like my roommates and me. I convinced my roommates to take in people who did not have a place to stay or who were evicted for failing to pay rent. We emptied the living room of all its furniture to make space for people to sleep in.

Soon after we opened our apartment to others, I met a brother, Brother Allan, who attended “the Message” Church.

Brother Allan did not live with us, but he spent most of his time with us rather than at his apartment, which he also shared with other roommates. God had impressed upon him to intercede for me. He came to our apartment every day and interceded for me without my knowledge; meanwhile, we shared meals and laughed at our almost identical struggles.

One day before my conversion, Allan told me the truth: God had impressed on him to pray for me, and that is why he’d become very protective of me over time. He prayed for me constantly because he also believed that if I could give my life to Jesus, I would become a wonderful human being. He felt that way because I had a big heart and would take in strangers who were struggling in a foreign country just as I was. I cooked for them, shared what little money I made, and helped them any way I could.

During that same period, I also met an older gentleman, Brother Benjamin, whom I was also helping. We called him Brother Ben. Because our apartment was full, he could not live with us. We had about ten to fourteen men and one to four women living there at any time. The women shared my bedroom; they came and left quickly as in most cases they moved in with their boyfriends.

All my housemates were struggling and had no other places to go, nor had a stable source of income. No jobs were available for all these refugees, and no stable support offered and most had come from war-torn countries. But we shared happy times; we became like a family. We shared similar struggles and pain, so we connected with each other in a powerful way.

Brother Ben came every day to eat, as I would prepare the only big meal in the evening after I returned from work, or let’s just say from my hustling day job. Ben thought the same as Allan did: if only I could add God to my portfolio, I would be “perfect.” He started inviting me to church, but I refused at first.

At the time, I had started dating someone I had met at work, and my boyfriend and I were planning to marry and move to Canada. He was the first person who gave me a sense of belonging and stability, and a glimpse of what love could feel like. He was planning his life with me. But his feelings and words were like a foreign language to me; I was not used to dealing with that. A short while later, I would give my life to the Lord Jesus and break up with him without warning. I would break his heart, and he would never speak to me again. He would leave South Africa and move to Europe, disappearing from my life for good.

One day, Ben invited a few of my roommates and me to a wedding at the church he used to attend. I had nothing scheduled that Saturday, and traditional Congolese food would be served, which was the main reason I decided to go to the wedding, because many of us had not tasted the food we grew up on in a long time; we just couldn’t afford to purchase the ingredients needed to make the meals. So, we went to the wedding, and my life was never the same again. From that day on, I experienced God in a powerful way, but it was not until twenty years later that I started my journey as one called to serve the Almighty.

Twenty years ago, I gave my life to the Lord Jesus on a beautiful Saturday afternoon at a wedding ceremony. I went back to church the following Sunday, and from then on, I wanted to know more about this God who could bless me and provide me with a loving husband just like it was preached in the church that day at the wedding. Something about the newlyweds led me to believe that love was possible. Up until that time, I do not think I knew what love was, and I was not expecting it. I could have just complied my way into a relationship and conformed to others’ expectations of me.

Before this, I did go on a few dates only because of peer pressure; traditionally, because it was expected that I would be settled by then. Nevertheless, I have been to a few weddings since that unforgettable Saturday, but I have not felt moved as much as I did that day. Later, I wondered if the wedding had given me a change of heart or if it was simply time for me to turn my life around. One way or the other, my life was never the same.

Soon thereafter, I joined the church. My hunger for this God became fierce. I wanted more from this God I had discovered. I gave my life to the Lord Jesus and was baptized right away, and the intensity of my conversion was powerful. I felt like someone who was rescued from drowning, struggling to suck in air. Without warning, I cleaned up my life, which was not much anyway; broke up with my then boyfriend; and committed myself to God. But right after my baptism, something strange happened to me.

At the time, I did not understand who the Holy Spirit was, so I could not explain what was happening in my life. All I knew was that I could hear God’s voice and commands and that He would send me to the pastor’s office with the words “Thus said the Lord.” Just as Elijah showed up in front of King Ahab with a message from the Lord (1 Kings 18: 1 NIV), I was sent with the Word of the Lord to the pastor and deacon of the church. I had a message early on, just after joining the church.

One day I heard the Voice of God call me and He told me that I was being called to a prophetic function, and I would later move to the United States and serve. But in the meantime, I had a specific assignment—I was to serve God while He was teaching me. At the time of this revelation, I had no clue what God was talking about. And the most difficult part of this assignment was because I did not truly understand the gift I was being entrusted with, and because the church environment I was in could become hostile at times, I endured a lot of adversity.

About two and a half years after that revelation, I moved to the United States. But the year after I landed in the United States, I turned my back on God and went on my merry way. Admittedly, I thought I had the right to do so. At the time, I was mad at God because by then it had been about four years since I had given my life to Jesus that faithful Saturday, and a loving husband had not found me. I thought to myself that this God had not delivered on His promise.

Like Jonah (Jonah 1:3 NIV), I took a detour and went where I planned to have success. I heard about the American dream, and I learned that I could achieve whatever I put my mind to. I could become who I wished to be, and my hard work could be a passport to success.

One night, before going to bed, I went down on my knees and prayed, and at that time I told God that I was leaving Him. I even offered a prayer to God to remove the Spirit of the prophet He had bestowed on me back in South Africa. I was mad at God. And I thought I had the...