Aunty Pat is not the regular girl you meet on the street. Dark skin, funny hair style and really an embodiment of laughter. Laughing is her second food.
I remember when I first saw her. She was always all nice and friendly with the elders in church, as well as the youths. And I remember thinking, what sort of person is she sef. Doesn’t she get tired of smiling?
Ah. I was only about 9 or ten years old. I didn’t understand adult life.
My dad and mom were one of the adults she smiled happily with. And whenever they all gathered after Sunday service, there was always a story to share. I heard bits and pieces. Can’t even remember them now.
One fateful day, my dad came home with the sad news. It was my mum’s scream that alerted us; me and my brothers, as we were initially playing.
We went in to see what was up. Then we saw my dad comforting my mom, as she looked like she was in shock.
We heard him say the words, “Pat is definitely in a better place”.
We didn’t understand until a few days later when we heard my dad discussing Aunty Pat with my mom. Then we understood. She was gone.
I remember I felt bad about it. But it didn’t make any difference to me. However, when Sunday came, I missed her smiling face. And for the first time since I heard of her death, I really wished she didn’t die.
With time, I forgot about Aunty Part, but not completely.
This is over 12 years later and my dad and mom still talk about her, occasionally. And there’s one of her personal stories she shared with my dad that he in turn, always shares with us, his family.
Today, I am sharing the story with you because I know someone out there needs to read this.
Being at the University back then, not sure which of the University, the school was on break and the occupants of the hostels were given a deadline to pack up and go home.
Aunty Pat was in one of the girls’ hostels and when the time came to vacate the premises, she had no cash on her. Not even to get to the bus stop.
She put her belongings together and parked out of the hostel. She carried her things by foot, to the road side and stood, thinking of what to do. Nothing popped in her head, only a silent tugging in her heart to pray.
She didn’t take it serious at first. So it was sometime later she moved slightly away from her things to stand by an empty kiosk. There, she prayed, asking for help, as she had nowhere else to turn. She was talking like she would to her father. Letting him know, if you don’t do it, then I’ll end up sleeping on the road. She turned the entire situation into God’s hands and shut out all doubt, fear, and random thoughts.
The only thought she maintained was, God is in charge.
Few minutes after she stepped back to the road, a car pulled up in front of her. The driver asked where she was going.
“Benin”, she said.
The man asked her to get in. Before then, he stepped out of his car, walked around and helped put her belongings in the boot.
The entire journey to Warri was full of gisting. Aunty Pat was one who loved gisting a lot and so it was easy for her to keep up.
When they got to Warri, the Good Samaritan told her, this was his stop. She‘d have to take a bus to Benin.
Again he got down and helped take out her things from the boot. Then he handed her more than enough cash for her transport to Benin. She was exceedingly grateful.
As soon as he drove off, she heard someone call her name. It felt odd as she really didn’t know anyone in Warri. She turned around to see the cab driver she patronizes. It so turned out, he had brought a passenger to Warri and was about to return to Benin.
Without asking for her permission, he picked up her things and put them in his boot. And the ride to Benin started.
Upon getting to her house, the driver again, helped her carry her things out of the boot. He refused taking money from her. He drove off.
Before she could pick up her things, the kids in her house were out in their number, screaming aunty has come, aunty has come.
They carried her bags after a reunion hug and they all went in. Not once did her hand touch her bags again until they were safely inside her house.
The lesson in this story is very clear. When God takes charge of a situation, he finishes it to the end, expertly. On her own, Aunty Pat would have slept on the road. And if she was fortunate enough to find financial help, she would have still battled with her bags alone.
Committing everything we do to God’s Hands is one of the best thing we can do this year. The truth is, God will never interfere with man’s free will. He will only make suggestions to your heart, or through someone else. If you follow it, aweome, he would act. If you don’t, he wouldn’t.
Just as God dwells in you, beats your heart, works your entire body, so does he dwell in the next man/woman. He beats their heart. He works their entire body, like clock walk. And it is because of his presence in them that they breath.
God can always get the next person to help out. After all, he is their thinking. He is their thoughts. And he is their conscience. And even though he gives us freewill, if you call to him and ask for help, he would make the next person bow to the need at hand.
Talk to God about what you want to achieve. Leave it in his hands. Ask him to lead. And when he does, even that person that would have said no to you will find himself saying yes.
I hope I was able to make a point with this story? I will share my personal experiences from next Sunday.
Now, over to you. We want to read your own experiences. What is that issue you gave to God with sincere faith? And how did it go? Please drop yours below.
NB: Have you started preparing for our contest? See the details here