On the 15^th of January 2015, I received an email from my father. It was the first time we had interacted, outside of the random bump-ins during the year, since I had moved out the house in December 2013. In the email, he expressed his desire to pay for my university fees for the duration of my studies or until I was able to secure a bursary. At first, I felt like he was manipulating himself into my life. He knew I really enjoyed Mathematics. He knew I really wanted to study it. And he definitely knew that I had no idea how I was going to pay for my studies, let alone all the expenses that came before registration.

I was afraid that He’d disappoint me again. That he’d end up choosing someone else over me again. But I grabbed hold of the olive branch, in hopes that this was also a genuine attempt at being a present dad. What I didn’t know however, was that it created in me a heart, that was always too afraid to hope for the best. And as the years went by, I realised how much I became so afraid to believe God would never disappoint me. My parents had. And if God was meant to be my Father, surely He would too?

At the end of February this year, I had to go into theatre for the removal of all of my wisdom teeth. This meant I’d have a co-payment of just over R7000. At my consultation, the surgeon explained that the hospital would reduce that amount to R4500. Which was great, but I still didn’t have much of a plan of how I’d pay that amount given all the other expenses.

After having paid for all my medical expenses, I had R70 in my account. I also still had rent and medical aid to pay. And I remember being scared to be bold enough to believe and declare that there would be victory as I took out a short-term loan to pay for everything.  

A few days later, as I was talking to a friend about being overwhelmed with how the month was going, I mentioned that I wished my dad was still alive. I knew how important my health was to him so I knew he would have happily covered it all. In a sense, it felt a little like death had robbed me of the provision.

When God told me to sing and prepare for breakthrough in the things I had been desperately praying for, I was a little anxious that it would require a bold faith. I knew the instruction to keep singing would require courage. And I remember reading past the first verse of Isaiah 54 hoping to find something less bold to anchor myself to and this was what I read;

“Don’t be afraid—you’re not going to be embarrassed.
Don’t hold back—you’re not going to come up short.”

– Isaiah 54 v 4

And so when I sensed the Holy Spirit tell me that my 24^th year would be a year of victory. I decided to step out of what I had always known and step into the unfamiliarity and discomfort that came with being courageous enough to believe it. To just take Him at His word.

The evening after my conversation with my friend, I received an email from Stellenbosch University letting me know of a credit balance on my student account. I obviously knew that this was because my bursary had overpaid, so I called them to let them know that it probably needed to be paid back to the bursar. During the call, they explained to me that the money was indeed due to the bursar, but because there was proof that my dad had paid towards my first year of studies, they were willing to release a portion of it to me. It was enough to pay back the loan, cover the rest of the unexpected expenses and bridge the gap until my next salary.

One of the definitions of “victory” in the Miriam-Webster dictionary is “the overcoming of an enemy or antagonist.” And as I read that definition, I sensed the Holy Spirit remind me of the kind of victory I find in Him;

A victory that stares death in the face and says “where is your sting?”