A close call

Yes, after more than a week, we're back online! Thank God! I was going stir-crazy.

So, there's so much to tell you I can't figure out where to start... so I'll just give you the bullet points, in no particular order:

• I have developed a very tight and painful jaw from grinding my teeth at night. My GP says it's stress and not to worry about it. Hmm.. That may be true, but it's not helpful when at times I can barely get my mouth open to eat.
• I have my fasting blood test tomorrow at the hospital (for diabetes).
• I'm still waiting for the results of the other blood tests, although I think I'll ask them tomorrow while I'm there whether they've got them.
• Nellie has learnt to say 'push'.
• Her teeth still aren't through.
• She's been throwing up again, but as there's no temperature or any other sign of illness, I'm hoping it's all related to the teething thing.
• The car needs MORE repairs so is going in again tomorrow. This time it's the catalytic converter. Joy.
• Our lovely friends felt led by God to give us a cheque that covers the cost of the car repairs!! How cool is that?!
• The import permit for the car has been approved and is on its way to London after a detour to my mother's house!!! YAY!!!
• When I finally worked up the energy to ring SA about Nellie's RSA passport, the people I needed to speak to were off for the day on a march. Typical. Not only is that just typical of my luck, it's typically Africa too. I guess I'd better get used to dealing with a third world bureaucracy again, and fast.
• We still haven't managed to sell our pram/ buggy...
• Although we've booked our flights, we haven't started packing yet... and that's starting to stress me out a bit. It's just all so much more difficult to organise with a toddler in the house. Fortunately, the removals people will be doing most of it, but there's a lot of preparatory work that needs to be done before then.

I've been in a really dark place spiritually over the last 10 days, so not having the blog or the SANDS forum hasn't helped really. The counselling I had with Graeme last week helped me to verbalise what I think I'd been feeling for a little while. It just seemed that so many things were not going according to plan and I was developing a serious paranoia that someone was out to get me.

While logically I knew that person wasn't God, because God doesn't engineer bad stuff to happen, I couldn't help feeling like he wasn't doing much to prevent it either. Then I just got mad with him. Then I got depressed. I found myself back to thinking that God is just an ogre out to punish his followers and make their lives as miserable as possible. Score one for Satan.

As I said to our counsellor, I didn't just feel like I need a break; I felt like God owed me something. After everything we've been through recently, I really thought it would be nice if he could extend us, extend me, just a little grace and mercy. I have been worrying about money in particular, making ends meet, so little things like selling our pram are pretty important events (or non-events, as the case may be) to me. I felt that, if God is supposed to be providing for us, he could either have arranged for us to sell the pram, or stopped the car from breaking down again, or arranged a hundred other little things in similar vein. These are not a biggie for him, and not beyond the realm of possibility, but he didn't. So I found myself thinking that if he couldn't be trusted to sort out the little things for us that would enable us to take care of ourselves financially, then how could I trust him to take care of us back in SA where neither of us currently have jobs.

I've also been having a lot of second (and third) thoughts about starting this business of my own when I get back. I've got my doubts about it's viability, about my ability to make it happen, about the possibility of finding the right venture capitalist with enough money to get it off the ground, about the time and effort it's going to cost, about the toll it will take on my family and Nellie in particular.... about all sorts of things. And then I've worried about what happens if I don't do this. About having to go back to teaching. About having to settle for a job that drives me insane from boredom. About never having enough money to not worry about money (which we have had while we've been here). About not having enough money to afford to have another child. And then I've started worrying about whether I can have more children, or whether trying for any more will only result in them all being stillborn or miscarried, or being so prem they die. And then I've started worrying about the medical aid costs we're going to have to incur in SA (the national health system there is so pathetically overstretched and underfunded that anyone who has more than a hand-to-mouth existence tries to go private)... no wonder I'm grinding my teeth!!

But then God did something I didn't anticipate. Firstly, the college offered Graeme a few extra days work because we're leaving a week after his notice period. This enables him to earn a few extra bucks to tide us over in SA. Then, these lovely friends gave us a rather large cheque. Then, another lovely friend gave us some M&S gift vouchers to buy smoked mackerel pate (long story in that... maybe I'll tell that another time).

It feels like God is saying that while he isn't going to stop the bad stuff from happening, he's going to provide us with a way out. I needed to hear that he's going to take care of us. It's just so completely human of me to forget the way he's taken care of us in the 7 years we've been in the UK, how he's provided for us in ways I never thought possible. I'm just like the Israelites in the desert on the way to Canaan. I've forgotten how God got me out of "Egypt". But there it is. I'm a faithless and fickle believer. I'd be lying if I pretended to be anything else.

I definitely hit that place again where I could honestly say I didn't see the purpose in being a Christian anymore. Except for one thing. I believe Jesus to be the Son of God. Even if he is an ogre (which intellectually, at least, I know he isn't); even if he has laid upon us a life of suffering and trials (the jury's still out on this one); even if he never demonstrated his love for us on a daily basis (which he does). He'd still be the Son of God. I have to echo Peter's words (John 6: 68,69): "Lord, to whom else shall [I] go? You have the words of eternal life. [I] believe and know you are the Holy One of God."

I can't say I'm past the being mad stage (after all, no-one holds a grudge like I do!), but now I can see that God hasn't forgotten us, which gives me hope that we're going to get through this ok. I've been crying a lot again recently, missing Zoe a lot, angry a lot that don't have my little girl to hold anymore, intensely worried about money, stressed about moving home, doubting my own abilities, but I know that God hasn't forgotten us. By the grace of God we're going to get through this. To be honest, I only have to look at my gorgeous little Nellie to know that. But it's been a close call these past few days.