Written by Sabrina Nino de Campos, Brazil Coordinator for Iron Rose Sister Ministries
Just like in every reconstruction story, mine also involves a pain that is still very present. And even when I don’t feel it all the time, and may even forget it sometimes, it is constant.
I’ve been very blessed in my life. I had the opportunity to grow up in a family that loves God, and I remember that many times as a kid, whenever I felt troubled about any situation in life, I would always thank God for the family He gave me. Ever since I was a kid, I felt like I had a very strong relationship with the Father, especially in prayer. Even in the moments when I felt so far from Him, I don’t remember going to sleep without praying. It had been something my parents taught me, and it became a habit. And that habit kept me close to God during many years of frustration and life changes.
When I graduated high school and had a decision to make as to what I wanted for my future, I decided to enter a missions program called AME. I really wanted to make my own path, after so many years admiring the work my parents did with the church. During those years I participated in the mission work in Bolivia, met my husband, moved to Argentina to partner with the church there, etc. God did great things in my life, and even though in some moments, doubt crept into my mind (just like everyone else’s), I felt like my faith grew stronger every day. And the peace that flooded my life made me more and more confident that obstacles didn’t matter if I could put them at Yahweh’s feet.
Well, all of that changed in August 2019. When my mom, who had been my best friend and biggest supporter, suffered a cardiac arrest and had no oxygen for 33 minutes. My husband and I had to move out of Buenos Aires in less than 48 hours, leaving me with no time to say goodbye. Our journey was interrupted.
We stayed in Brazil for 6 months, where I felt like all hope was lost and felt the worse pain of my life. My mom did wake up from her coma, but she wasn’t herself anymore. Because of the lack of oxygen during those 33 minutes, she had suffered major brain damage that hinders her from being able to remember things for more than just a few seconds. She barely remembers the faces around her. And since I had been away from home since 2015, she doesn’t remember me. She knows my name, but doesn’t know who I am.
I don’t feel like God had prepared me for something like this. How could I ever be ready for this situation? I still don’t have an answer to that question. And since that day, and with all the things that came after that, I don’t feel like it gets any easier. I feel like my prayers have, many times, been like this one on Psalm 88 (ESV):
[…]
I am shut in so that I cannot escape;
my eye grows dim through sorrow.
Every day I call upon you, O Lord;
I spread out my hands to you.
[…]
But I, O Lord, cry to you;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
O Lord, why do you cast my soul away?
Why do you hide your face from me?
[…]
You have caused my beloved and my friend to shun me;
my companions have become darkness.
My faith was destroyed in an unexpected way. And that was the first time I felt like the faith I inherited from my parents would no longer be enough to uphold me all my life. I needed to rebuild it. This situation I’m living is not what I wanted, I want a miracle. But that’s not what I’ve received, even though I still wait on Him. What I have received was an invitation to Rebuild my faith. I have learned a lot of new things about God, I have read His Word like I had never done before, with different eyes.
Sometimes I feel like Paul when he was Saul and even though he had good intentions, then Jesus comes and takes his vision away. And whenever he gets his vision back, his perspective is so different. I feel like I’m recovering my vision little by little, and sometimes, honestly, it feels like I’m going blind again. And God once again shows me His light.
The process of rebuilding is painful. It involves rebuilding my relationship with God; it involves my prayer life, the way I think about how God moves, the way I live my faith. But the most important thing I’ve learned is that I don’t need to be on this journey alone. I have brothers and sisters that are also going through this process. And better yet, God wants to accompany me through this process. Just like the psalmist that prays his pain, God also wants to hear my voice even if it’s full of sadness and even anger towards Him. We can’t rebuild a friendship by deciding to ignore the other person. Communication is needed.
Let’s not be afraid of rebuilding our relationship with God. Maybe you had something painful happen to you, something that changed your life story. Or maybe you just want to relearn how to pray, read, or listen to God in a more honest way.
No matter what, Yahweh wants to be by your side, just like He does with me too. And let’s not forget, God knows pain all too well. But just like He promises us pain (John 16:33), he also says, “I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:20b, ESV).