There was only one positive thing that came from my failed marriage, it happened in 1982. A year into our marriage, we travelled to the UK for three weeks to meet his family and visit an old friend. I remember one morning in Glasgow when I went for a long walk. It was cold, and I felt the soft winter rain on my face. That day, something beautiful began to grow in my heart for this country. Years later, after returning to South Africa, I would often long to be back in the UK whenever it rained softly. I didn't understand it then. Later, I realised I had to confront the lies, hurt, and shame within me before I could fully embrace this blessing.

 

After the divorce, I struggled to manage the monthly mortgage payments on a single income. I needed extra income, so I applied for a small business loan from my bank. I wanted to buy a potter's kiln and wheel, and some furniture to convert the garage into a studio. They told me the bond committee met weekly on Fridays. They promised to call me with the outcome of my loan application after the meeting. I remember anxiously waiting for that call, watching the hours pass by. When five o’clock arrived without any news, I assumed they wouldn’t be calling since the bank was now closed.

 

On Saturday morning, I woke up feeling furious. I tossed my clothes around, thinking, “who do they think they are to turn me down? They can take their loan and stick it!” Then I heard Dr. Kroon’s voice in my head, saying, “It is time for your prescription Leonie.”

 

I took a moment to reflect on all the anger inside of me. Why was I so upset? I questioned whether that was the truth. Had they declined my application? The reality was that I didn’t know. So, I reasoned it out further. If I didn’t know for sure, was that not a lie? The truth was that I had not received a call. I recalled what Dr. Kroon had taught me about renewing my mind. If this was a lie, then it must have come from the devil, the king of lies and the destroyer of life. I prayed for God to renew my mind and to fill me with His truth and acceptance.

 

On the following Monday, I received a call from the bank informing me that they had approved my loan.

My studio was soon up and running. I remember one Saturday when I was putting up metal shelving. One row of shelving lacked a supporting wall behind it. I decided to take a chance and not secure it to something sturdy, like the roof. Between the wall and that row of shelving was a table where the students used to work. I was facing the shelves, standing in front of the table, when they collapsed. It fell on me, pinning my back against the table. It was too heavy for me to lift, and I couldn’t get out from underneath it.

 

With no one nearby to help, I realised the only thing I could do was call for assistance. I started screaming, “Help me, please! Somebody, please help me!” I don’t know how long I shouted, but eventually, my neighbour, who was in his garden, heard my cries for help. He quickly jumped over the fence and rescued me from beneath the steel shelving.

 

I went through so many difficult times in my life at this time. I picked up an infection in my right wrist. After several failed treatments, I was referred to an orthopaedic consultant. He placed my right hand in a plaster cast, from my elbow to the tips of my fingers, for eight weeks. At that time, I was working full-time and teaching pottery classes from home in the evenings. As a side note, I am right-handed, so this situation was especially challenging for me. It was an incredibly tough period in my life.

 

After much consideration, I decided to sell my house and relocate nearer to my friends and church. I had never felt such attacks from the enemy. I told my mortgage provider I plan to sell the house. I asked if they would help me get a mortgage for a new home. They assured me they were there to help. As a backup, I inquired with my bank, and they told me about a special mortgage offer they had available. However, when I found a new house, the bank said the amazing offer was gone. I then returned to the building society that held my mortgage. They replied the loan was declined.

 

I made an appointment with the Mortgage Manager, wanting to know why they turned me down. After all, I never missed a repayment on my loan ever. Finally he admitted that he declined me because I also enquired about a possible loan from the bank where my personal account was held. In my eyes he acted unjustly. By then, I had already put in an offer on the new house and found myself in deep trouble.

My supervisor at work suggested that I visit a local bank down the street for help. The bank approved the new mortgage within three days. However, I felt a growing anger at all the injustices I had faced. I felt that darkness and evil were closing in on me.

 

The company I worked for was located in a three-story building. One day, as I walked down the stairs from the first floor, a sudden sense of great danger overwhelmed me. I looked up to see a large steel bolt fall right in front of me on the step; it barely missed me. I looked upstairs, but there was nobody there. I realised that I could have been seriously injured or even killed if that bolt had hit me on the head. I felt so overwhelmed that I was embarrassed to admit I was a Christian.

 

I questioned where God was; it seemed like everything was going wrong. The solicitor who dealt with the conveyance charged me twice for a local council tax amount. She refused to accept that she made an error. She only gave in after I told her I will report her to the Legal Ombudsman. I felt I could not deal with any more of this kind of stuff and I wondered what was next. The only good thing was that I got my mortgage sorted, but I dreaded what more could go wrong.

 

After I moved into my new house, I stepped on a vacuum cleaner pipe and sprained my ankle. Walking was painful. The next day, I sneaked upstairs to my office, making sure no one noticed my limp. My supervisor, who had an office adjacent to mine, called me a few times, but I always had a good excuse not to go see her. Eventually, she insisted I come to her office. When she saw my ankle, she called a local doctor and made an appointment for me to see him.

 

I was so overwhelmed by bad news that I became too scared to open my mail. Things got so dire that I stopped praying altogether and began to think that the Lord had given up on me. Then I got a call from a wonderful woman, I will call Naomi. She was a member of my church. She eventually became my mentor and friend. She was often the voice God used in my life.

Naomi called to share a dream with me, which I can’t recall now, but it related to a car accident I had been in. She believed the dream's message was that I blamed God for my life's problems. But, I was blaming the wrong person. All my heartache, attacks, and feelings of rejection were not coming from Him. At the time, Naomi was unaware of my struggles and my decision to stop communicating with the Lord.

 

A colleague at work had been living with her partner for about twenty to thirty years. One morning, she woke up to find that he had suffered a heart attack during the night and had died. He meant the world to her. I felt so much empathy for her, but there was nothing any of us could do to ease her pain. Eventually, she started showing up to work drunk in the mornings, trying to numb her hurt. My supervisor remarked, “You know Leonie, you have God, but she has no one to lean on.” This made me realise that God reaches out in various ways. It reminds me that He listens and cares for me.

 

It was also during this time that I started seeing the importance of home groups in church. It was the people in the home group I attended that rallied around me in those times of need. I don’t think I could ever have made it without them.

 

I remember one Sunday, our pastor, Dave Owen, sent us away after the service. As he did so, he told us that we would not meet on Sundays as a Church for three months. It was important for him – and us – to learn what it means to ‘be’ the church, rather than ‘do’ church. A bit radical, but that was David Owen, and so was Jesus.

I remember the group came over to my home one Sunday to take care of chores around the house and garden. It was when my arm was in plaster. We had lunch together and ended the day with worship and prayer. Rosanna, also from the church, came weekly to help me. She prepared the studio for the students. That to me is the heart of home groups where we know and are fully known and can carry each other through rough times.