Guest post – A lot of people know that in June, my youngest son burnt around 80% of his body with hot water. I haven’t really written about the experience in full, because it’s still one of the most traumatic things I have lived through.

It was just 2 days after Eli’s second birthday, and we were celebrating Father’s Day. The following day was a public holiday and the kids were on school holidays, so we figured we’d order Mr.D and have a movie night. After placing our orders, we realized we didn’t have ice-cream and chocolate sauce, so made a quick trip to the Spar around the corner. I can’t begin to explain just how normal our day and evening were. I remember walking down the aisle, picking out the chocolate sauce and looking at my kids running ahead of me with such gratitude. My soul was full – in that moment, everything was just as it should be. We were healthy, life was working out, I had just started my new job, my kids were thriving. For the first time in what felt like forever, life was good and we were emerging from what was a very tough season.

We got home from Spar and decided to do a quick tidy up while we waited for our pizzas to arrive. I was in our bedroom, picking up tiny socks from the bottom of my bed, Axl was carrying toys through to his room, Eli was shouting for Tea (quite typical of him.) and Darren, my husband, was taking dishes to the kitchen. I was just about done in the room, but spotted another rogue sock in the bathroom. I told Eli that I was coming through to the lounge, I just needed to put the socks in the washing basket. I had just bent down when I heard something fall in the kitchen – I listened out for any sound, expecting D to say, “I am okay!” – and then I heard the unfamiliar scream of my child. It’s the kind of scream I can’t describe, it shook me to my core. I dropped everything and before I got through my bedroom door, D started shouting, “HOT WATER! HOT WATER!”

I wasn’t aware that D was trying to help out, by softening the chocolate sauce for our ice-cream we had planned to eat later. He had filled a plastic bowl full of hot water, to allow for the chocolate sauce to soften, and I imagine Eli was on his way to the kitchen to ask for tea, when he saw the chocolate sauce in the bowl, so pulled it down on himself. The bowl had hit him on the head, and the hot water had spilled all over his body.

By the time I got to the kitchen, Darren had gotten Eli’s clothes off. I grabbed him and ran through to my bathroom. Darren ran to the other bathroom and tried running a bath, but I was already in the shower – my clothes all on, standing in a cold shower. I started assessing the damage… his skin was coming off on my hands. I screamed, “we’re going to hospital! His skin is coming off. He is bleeding. We need to go!” At first, Darren didn’t think it was that bad, but as soon as he saw the amount of skin coming off his body, he just grabbed everything, and got us into the car. He was on the phone with his mom, asking her to meet us at the Emergency Doctor, I grabbed my wallet, phone… I had no shoes, no bra… My clothes were still wet from the shower. I ran back and remembered to grab my silk gown, to cover Eli. In my mind, I needed to stop touching his skin, so it would stop coming off, so I wrapped him in my gown, grabbed a new nappy for him and ran to the car.

While this was all going on, I had a five-year old completely freaking out. Axl is sensitive to loud noises, and Eli was… well, as you can imagine… screaming.

I also vaguely remember Mr. D kept trying to call me, but I had dropped my phone on the floor of the car, and couldn’t get it without hurting Eli. We pulled out the driveaway, and started making our way to the emergency room. Axl was blocking his ears and freaking out, D was just focused on getting there, Eli was screaming and I wasn’t processing any of it. All I could think to do was pray. And man, did I pray. The louder he cried, the louder my prayers got. We were on Cape Road, when a Golf tried to slip through as the robot had just turned red, almost hitting into our car.

My world froze.

This is how we die. It was slow-motion. The Golf was going to hit into my door.

I shouted, “Oh God, PLEASE! Keep my family safe!!!” And in the very last second, D gained control of the car and swerved, managing to miss the Golf, and continue on our way.

I don’t remember the rest of the drive to the Emergency Doctor. I know I prayed. A LOT. And that when we pulled into the driveway, people ran out the way, I opened the door of the car and just ran. I am pretty sure the car was still moving and I know I left the door open. I didn’t care. I needed someone to help my son.

A gentleman held the door open, the nurses jumped up and ushered me into a room. I was in a daze. They asked me questions. I knodded and shook my head in response.

“Hot water. It was hot water.”

…

“I can smell his burning skin. Is he going to be okay? What do I do?”

…

The nurse was so sympathetic. She spoke softly and calmly, assuring me that he would be okay. Darren and Axl were still not in the room with me. The nurse kept trying to assess the burns, but Eli would just scream louder. They gave him some pain meds, but obviously, he kept refusing them. They got him Burnshield, which I covered my already wet shirt in, so he could lay against me. The doctor came in and confirmed that we needed to go to hospital but they’d make all the arrangements.

We’re not on medical aid.

I had been unemployed for just short of a year. I had just landed a job and was trying to climb out of crippling debt. There was no savings, no cushion, no emergency money, no medical aid.

But I refused to worry. My son needed me.

I called Darren from reception to bring my phone and turned on the Lumineers album. I hushed Eli, danced with him and eventually… the crying stopped. I turned off the light, and swayed in the dark. I still didn’t have it in me to cry, to freak out, to vomit from the worry. I just swayed to the song, and prayed.

Meanwhile, a stranger in the waiting room had taken in Axl. He was holding him and wrapped him up in his jacket. He comforted him and made him feel safe, until his granny came. By the time my mother-in-law arrived, Mercantile hospital had said in order for them to admit us, we’d need R24,000 up front. TWENTY-FOUR THOUSAND RAND – WHO HAS THAT? I could hear everyone talking in reception, the nurse desperately trying to call other hospitals, the doctor trying to reassure my husband, Axl asking if Eli is going to die or if his skin will ever grow back.

Eli was asleep, the nurse and doctor had managed to strap on BurnShield by covering his body in bandages to hold the shields in place. I finally managed to message my parents, and asked them to start a prayer chain. My battery was about to die and I wasn’t able to give much information, because I still didn’t know what was happening. I needed to save the little battery I had to keep playing the music for Eli – it was the only thing that calmed him. Darren walked in. His head fell. “We need R24,000.” Before he could finish his sentence, he was called away. He came back… “A man in the waiting room has offered to pay the R24,000 upfront for us.”

A man – a total stranger – offered to pay my son’s hospital bills upfront. He didn’t just offer. He did it. He EFTed the money right there, the nurses faxed proof of payment and we were ushered back into our car to go to Mercantile. I ran into the hospital, was shown to a private room where they gave Eli stronger meds. The nurses said he’d likely need to be sedated to have his wounds cleaned the following day, and that the bulge on his head from the bowl, would need to be scanned to make sure he didn’t crack his skull but that overall, he would be okay.

My dad arrived with a charger, my sister-in-law arrived with clothes and our family pastor who had just seen our family through the murder of my husband’s uncle, the cancer diagnosis of my father-in-law and the death of my mother-in-law’s mother arrived to pray with us. For the first time, it started sinking in. This was real. This was happening.

The days that followed were long and hard. We spent two days in hospital but were relieved that Eli didn’t need to be sedated, nor did he need to be scanned. The doctors confirmed he had superficial burns and although he was really sore, we could only really give him pain meds and change his dressings every few days. On our last day in hospital, we had to visit the wound sister for the first dressing change.

Having to watch a sister “rip off” bandages from my son’s burned skin, seeing him bleed, while crying “mamma” over and over again, is a memory I will never get over. The more he cried, the more I prayed. The only thing that was going to get me through this was God himself. It’s a memory etched deep within my mind, a memory that makes me cry anytime I give it a thought. The wound sister was cold, heartless, horrible and cruel. She spat out the words, “This is why we sedate them!” As if it was our choice not to – it wasn’t, the doctor said not to. We were only following the doctor’s orders, but were made to feel like we failed, as if the guilt of our child being burnt wasn’t enough.

The care we received wasn’t the best, in general. We only saw a doctor once, they didn’t give Eli meds as often as they were meant to, and the wound sister was one of the worst professionals I had ever encountered. But we were set to leave, well, first we had to speak to a psychologist at the hospital, before they’d sign our release papers. The psychologist spoke to both my husband and I – she assured us that we did everything right. That things happen so fast, another sister chimed in how her own son had suffered 2^nd degree oil burns. They pleaded with us not to blame ourselves, to have peace of mind that he will be okay and that he won’t remember the trauma of this entire experience.

We got the sign off and headed home.

I had a friend who I met on Twitter reach out to ask if she can start a crowdfund, my new boss sent Eli a gift and told me to take as much time as I needed, my mother-in-law stayed with us for a week, to look after Axl, would take him out during the day, stock the fridge and did medicine runs. My dad popped in every day after work to make me coffee and see if I was ok. My grandparents came and dedicated both my children, while we sat around on the floor of my bedroom – it was so informal, but it was perfect. I messaged the stranger who paid our bills to thank him, and his response was, “God provides.”

In the days after, I didn’t feel right about going back to the wound sister at the hospital. She charged R6,000 for the first dressing and said the next 3 would be the same price – I’d rather go without food, to pay a better professional to take care of my son. I decided to call around and met a friendly sister at Schuinville pharmacy. The first time we went to her, she spent 2-hours trying to undo the mess that the previous wound sister had done. She had put cotton wool on his wounds, so the wounds had healed with the cotton wool stuck to it, which meant when they removed the bandages, everything just ripped open again. Two hours. It was pure agony. But these sisters were so patient and reassuring. They eventually got him wrapped up with the right stuff. A few days later, they came to our house to check his wounds – you wouldn’t believe the healing. It was incredible!

By the second week, Eli was walking around again. He was still sore, his movement limited but he was able to engage.

Slowly, things started going back to normal, first I would work from my bed, then as he started gaining mobility, I started working from my desk again. Eventually, 3-weeks later, we were able to take his bandages off for good. We still had months of work ahead of us, and he had a massive fear of water, his scars were bad, but he was alive and God said, “Trust me.”

And so I did and continue to.

Looking back, I know without a doubt in mind that my strength and courage came directly from God. That I acted with God’s knowledge. That God kept us safe in the car. That God put those two men in the waiting room; one who comforted and looked after my son when I couldn’t and the other who has a heart so big, he paid the bill of a complete stranger. I know that God is responsible for my son’s remarkable healing, that He connected me with the right wound sister when I needed, and opened the hearts of strangers who took the time to drop off creams for Eli’s scars. Gosh… God’s hand in my life during this period is just SO big, that I can go on to tell you that weeks after, we realized that Darren had left the bath running, when we made our dash to the ER but that the bath never overflowed because by some coincidence, our bath had a leak. Or, how I really didn’t want to spend such a large sum of money on a Paw Patrol Rubbel Teddy for Eli’s birthday, but Darren insisted and for some reason, that was the only thing that provided comfort to Eli while in the hospital. Small things like the fact that Darren happened to get petrol earlier that day, meant that we got to the hospital when we needed to. SO. MANY. THINGS. Happened, because of God.

God is Good.. So… Soo.. Good.

I made a commitment that I would spend the rest of my life sharing that message and shortly after, launched Cup of Faith. Cup of Faith is a South African online network for Christian women. Our platform is designed to share, inspire and encourage fellow Christian women through podcasts, blog posts, community reading plans, product reviews and much more! Quite frankly, I have no clue what I am doing, try to start an online ministry, but God is on the move and continues to wow me, as He leads me on this exciting new path. While I am based in Port Elizabeth, I have contributors based throughout the country and beyond, with some based in North Africa, Canada, and England – I wanted to create a platform featuring women and their real-life stories but could literally count on my one hand how many women I personally knew, who would want to share their stories… Well… I trusted God, and now we’re a thriving community of women from all ages and walks of life. We have new content being posted almost daily that tackles all sorts of topics that vary from mental health, discovering faith, marriage, parenting, addiction, to posts with helpful Bible resources, weekly freebies and printables. We also have a podcast hosted by myself, an online book club, prayer request, and social media accounts that aim to encourage our followers with daily devotionals and updates from the rest of our network. You can find us at: https://cupoffaith.co.za/

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Guest post – There are moments in our lives that will either define us or break us. Lately I have been wondering which moment I’m living in. This is a narrow space and on either side of me the squeezing seems to be reaching a breaking point. The demands of life cry out to me from the moment my eyes open. I am a mom. A wife. A principal. A special needs educator. I am all things but there doesn’t seem to be space for me in my life.

Its 5am. My alarm blares loudly and it bounces around inside my head. Life rushes in and immediately those familiar anxious feelings encase my chest. It’s a mad dash to get two kids out the house and make the school run to two different schools and then I’m rushing into difficult days with difficult cases and managing issues  and life seems to rush by me while I’m standing still. Life seems to move so quickly that the days blend into each other and when I look again my children are a year older.

We have entered into a moment in our lives where we have our terrible toddler years coinciding with preteen hyper emotionalism. Our days are filled with 11 year old sized tantrums and bite sized ones. My life seems to be reaching within me and pulling out all the patience, endurance and persistence within me. Today I refereed a fight over dog poop…

My toddler, all grown up, announces to the empty lounge “Daisy made a poop, I clean it” and off he goes to pull off the tiniest piece of toilet paper he can get all the while my preteen has heard him and has gone to scoop it up. Toddler arrived back in the lounge to find the poop is missing. He starts crying and I call out around my toothbrush filled mouth “what’s going on” and preteen starts crying hysterically because no one appreciates her and no one cares about her or listens to her. I am now rushing out the door with two crying children.

Parenthood has got me all squeezed out this year. I, like so many others moms, have found myself really soul-challenged by parenting. I worry if I love them enough? Do I tell them enough? Do I discipline them enough? Do I discipline them correctly? Do I give them a voice? Am I teaching them to be strong while still preserving their gentleness? All the while I am on a tapered journey. There are days when I loose faith in what God is doing in our lives. “God, why wont my son sleep?”. “God, why does it feel like I’m losing my daughter?”.

I have wrestled with debilitating fear as I drive away from my children’s schools.  The question mark always hangs in the air. Will I see them again? I try not to catch it instead I let it slip into the faith I carry in my heart. This is a tapered journey, don’t you see?

There hasn’t been some bright light or a booming voice from heaven giving me all the miraculous answers I need for this moment of parenthood that I am in , however, God whispers gently to my tired soul. . .   “The narrow gate and the difficult way leads to eternal life—so few even find it!” – Matthew 7:14.

This moment of life is truly a defining one, it is a narrow gate and if I choose to partner with faith then on the other side is peace, patience, kindness, steadfastness and an unwavering knowledge that God’s got this.

When I wrestle with fear over my children and I choose to submit that to the faith that God will grant me the wisdom I need. He will help me to navigate this transitional season in both my children’s lives. Then I am allowing Him to move in our lives.

I allow Him to walk me along the tapered journey and the destination is fullness, wholeness and peace. I am learning to trust Him with my concerns and He is teaching me that He is in the details. He allows me a moment to lean into His goodness when I watch my children snuggled up together on the couch. Our preteen lovingly wraps her arms around her little brother and he is content. Then I know we will pass through the narrow gate of being pressed on all sides to enter into the rest that faith provides.

I have to admit even Daisy’s poop was a defining moment…

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Guest post – There has been so much chaos in South Africa with gender based violence being on a constant rise in our country.

Today I want to share how I have been using my faith to get through the current chaos in the country concerning Gender based violence happening the first thing that comes to mind is of corse fear because the evidence is their but fear is Satan’s first mechanism here is proof :

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.-2 Timothy 1:7”

It is clear from the scripture above that fear is NOT from GOD so therefore us living with constant fear is not in line with Gods word yes all the gender based violence is scary but I have been choosing not to walk or live in fear it is hard and it doesn’t make sense but I don’t make sense I make faith!!

So how do I choose faith over fear?

1. Remember your identity

We need to remember who we are in Christ and to constantly remind the devil that we know who we are because he will always try to come back to us to test and see of if we really believe the below scripture clarifies who we are and our position in Christ.

“If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God.- Colossians 3:1-4 “

2. Prayer

Prayer is communication that you have with your God and in times of troubles like we are in now it is important that we as believers pray for the country because prayer and complaining takes the same energy so instead of complaining and turn it into prayer.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 4:6-7

3. Speak

Yes it sounds simple but speaking life and declaring faith over all these situations happening currently is so important because the bible says you shall have what you say and constantly declaring faith will surely help you surpass your fears.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?”- Psalm 27:1

So finally yes we’ve seen the chaos with gender based violence in our country and it is terrible but as believers we must do just that we MUST keep believing God for our country and for the men and women of our country because nothing will change unless we change it by faith.

This life is spiritual and whatever happens in the physical takes place in the spiritual realm first so let’s take charge of our country in the spirit and choose faith over fear.

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Guest post – For as long as I can remember, I have been a creature of habit. Trying not to upset my own apple cart.  I have never been very spontaneous and I never did anything that was not planned. I am a serious organizer. I like a lot of detail and I make lists for everything. I plan ahead and like when things are perfect. I lived a comfortable organized life… that is, until I got saved…

My story is nothing out of the ordinary. God saved me, from a mundane life of comfort. I was prodding around life, trying to please everyone except The One who created me.

A couple of years after I got saved, the Lord prompted me to live a Year-of-Yes. Saying yes to everything Kingdom related. To step down, and allow God to step up in my life.

My Year-of-Yes, turned into a lifetime of yes’s for Jesus and I have not looked back. Some decisions still terrify me, but I now want to and will forever choose God above it all. My yes’s looked like ministry trips, sharing my testimony when and where ever I could, letting God ‘interrupt’ my day to do His work. And as easy as it sounds, it came with it’s challenges, but the more I said yes, the easier it became. My biggest fear, was man. To be rejected, but God released me from that with every yes I spoke.

Five months ago, we dropped our safety net and said the biggest yes we had ever said. To a calling on our lives that we never expected, but yearned for so dearly. We left everything we knew behind and embarked on a Godventure.   Supporting a church plant on the other side of South Africa. We had no idea what to expect, but chose to remain steadfast in God and His plans for us, although we were fearful of the outcome of this gutsy move.

We chose Faith over Fear.

You see, the world is a scary place, but I am not from this world, therefor I refuse to live in fear of it. We are called to bring Heaven to earth. If the King lives in me, I will bring the Kingdom to earth, and fear has no place.

Greater is He that is in me, than he that is in the world.

Until next time, be blessed mommies!

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Guest post – Lets talk about everything that’s been going on in our country.  Protests against Gender Based Violence,  #enoughisenough,  wearing black on Friday and all the things that come with it.

It’s been a harrowing week for women and children in our country, but it didn’t start recently.  It’s been coming over years and years. Time has passed and our society has become so numb to violence, so conditioned to accept things for what they are, and to just live a life of fear. I have read so many posts on social media when the news broke of Nene and little Amy-Leigh’s kidnapping about how women were afraid. How they try to have strategies to escape being a victim, and how they can’t sleep at night or fear walking down their own street in broad daylight.

I can totally relate.

I’ve been afraid, I’ve been cautious in my routines, I’ve always made sure I park my car in a crowded place, I don’t walk alone and I sleep with my dogs and kids in my bed when my husband is away.

But do I shrink back and allow fear to overtake me? Do I become a nervous wreck when I need to leave the house?

No!

And here’s why.

As a Christian, we have a wonderful book FULL of advice and truth and some of those are:

• 2 Timothy 1:7 For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.
• Psalm 23:4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
• Psalm 91:5 You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day.
• 2 Corinthians 7:5 & 6 For when we arrived in Macedonia, our bodies had no rest, but we were pressed from every direction—conflicts on the outside, fears within. But God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the arrival of Titus,

I have learned, over the years, that Fear disables us, it’s stops us from living a full life. Fear keeps us captive and oppressed. It not only disables us, but when we allow fear to take root in our hearts and minds it makes us ineffective as believers in bringing the Salt and Light to those around us.

I have faced many seasons of fear, been tramped down in my thinking by the aftermath of an experience. I’ve had to take it to God and ask Him to give his perspective on it, I’ve had to allow God to show me that He has never left my side, He’s been with me through everything. I’ve come to understand that the choices of others (with regards to hurting others – emotionally and physically) are their choices and there is nothing I can do to change that, but I can change how I respond to it. I cannot allow the enemy to silence me, I cannot allow the forces of evil to stun me into silence and doubt of who’s I am and how much God loves me.

So I have come to the conclusion through all of the news and social media posts that, yes, we are allowed to be outraged and protest and share our experiences, but as believers, we have a mandate to FIRST go to God and allow Him to direct our opinions so that they match up with his word. Let us sow words of hope, joy and encouragement. Let us sow seeds of love and truth. We cannot live in fear for our lives, we must boldly declare the truth of God over our minds and our hearts and walk it out, with the help of Holy Spirit.

I know it’s hard, I struggle with fear every day, but the key here is to keep walking the walk believing the truth above the facts of the current conversations.

My anchor scripture on this whole thing is Romans 15:13

May the God of HOPE fill you with all joy and PEACE as you TRUST in him, so that you may OVERFLOW with HOPE by the POWER of the Holy Spirit.

Romans 15:13 (emphasis mine)

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