My story is about hope, grace, protection, God's love, and power in His Name. Calling God when you're in trouble. It is about Him fighting my battle. I don't want you to read my story and focus on what I went thru. I want you to read the story and see God in every detail. God is true to His Word. He is powerful and almighty. Call on His Name because there is POWER IN HIS NAME!

Romans 10:13: "For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved"

 

​​I always thought as long as my kids went for counselling, I would be okay. When I have to tell my story, I won’t think about what happened, I just remember God’s protection. It’s not always easy. I’m petrified of the dark, I can’t open a door at night when I’m alone. I don’t sleep when Riaan travels, it’s getting harder the older I get. 

 

But recently, someone in our Life Group from Church, told me that I have to ask God what He wants me to do. Cause there must be a reason why I’m struggling to let go. And that’s when the calm and Peaceful voice said that I have to write my story and publish it on the website. I have to let go and let God. When I put it on paper, I get it out of my mind.

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Date: Monday evening, March 5, 2007

Place: Helderkruin, Roodepoort, South Africa

 

My story starts on Monday evening, March 5, 2007. After bath time my two kiddos, ages 8 and 5, were allowed to watch a favourite series in South Africa, 7de Laan, before news starts at 7pm. Both are lying on my bed, laughing at all the funny things Hilda and Oubaas are doing. For a split second I thought I heard a noise by our garage door, but then it was gone. I thought it was Riaan back from work, but remembered he said he’s going to be late, so I assumed it was a wind gusting around the garage doors.

 

I was super excited, I received the latest novel by post and couldn't wait to start reading. At 18:56, 7de Laan playing the end song. The kids are ready for devotions, prayer and then bedtime. Just after they were tucked in, I made a huge cup of coffee. I switched on the lights for Riaan. A light trail from the TV Room to the bedroom. I drew water in the tub, novel was on the side. Reading a book in the bath is a luxury and something I almost never did!

 

19:08: As the water ran into the bathtub, my daughter came running into the bathroom shouting: “Mommy, Mommy, someone rang the gate bell", she said. I replied that "if it’s someone we know, they will phone me to open the gate. No one phoned". I sent her back to bed. A few moments later, my son came running into the bathroom with the same message. And the same thing I told him and tucked him into his bed.

 

Sitting on the side of the tub, this invisible blanket folded over me and an urge came into my heart. A Voice telling me to "go read my Bible". No, I thought, it’s way to early, I rather want to read the novel. Again this Voice: “Go Read Your Bible!” I remember I said: “Okay God, I will read my Bible and then I will get into the bath and read my book!”

 

On my bed, I opened my devotion book, written by Nina Smit. The message for March 5 was, roughly translated, ‘Devotions in the dark’. The Scripture Isaiah 41:10 - 13, “So do not fear, for I am with you;  do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. All who rage against you will surely be ashamed and disgraced; those who oppose you will be as nothing and perish. Though you search for your enemies, you will not find them. Those who wage war against you will be as nothing at all. For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.”

 

As I was reading the devotion, I’m thinking that in 2006, Riaan lived in Umhlanga (east coast province) for the year. His work rented an apartment on the beach for him, and the kids and I were home alone. My parents were always near when we needed them. God was protecting us then and He is now as well. I thanked God that He will always protect us and keep us safe.

 

As I said: “Amen”, a man walked into my bedroom with his right hand tucked in underneath his white T-shirt. He didn’t have shoes on and his denim pants were dirty and torn.

 

A billion thoughts went through my mind. All at the same time. For one split second I screamed to him: “You’re not my gardener, what are you doing in my home!” Immediately I thought, but our gardener doesn’t come into my home. My mind is working against time. Oh yes, my martial arts training can help, but I’m frozen on my bed. I can’t move. What did Si-Gung tell us in an emergency to do? Which form is the best to use?  Then I remembered a lady from Cape Town that morning on Radio Pulpit (Christian radio station), said: "whenever you need God, just shout His Name and He will be there".

 

The man jumped on my bed, hit me on my face with his left hand. Punched me in my tummy. Kicked me until I fell off the bed, down against the windowsill. I felt a tile break on my back with the force of the kick. I’m on the floor, and I’m so scared. My whole body is aching and shaking. “God I have to fight for my kids lives”. He stood on top of me. Strangling me with his left hand. His right hand still tucked away under his shirt. "Oh God I can’t breathe". His one foot is pressing on my chest, my breath is gone, I’m gasping for air. And then came this Peaceful voice again: “Call God on His Name and He will be there!”

 

The man removed his right hand underneath his shirt. I'm thinking God don’t let there be a gun, anything else but a gun. And then shining in the light, this man is holding my steak knife. It was part of 6 knives set, given to us by Riaan’s grandmother, Ouma Moek. As the knife came closer to my chest, I grabbed hold of the blade. I can't let he kill me. Rather cut off my hand, but I have to fight for my kids lives. As he struck me, I yelled with every bit of fiber in my being: “GOD HELP ME!”. 

 

There, with this guy on my chest, he flew to the other side of the bedroom. Against the brick wall. I'm hurting. My hand where I held the blade, is throbbing. He is just lying there. Slowly he starts moving, shaking his head. Opening his hand. I see the steak knife only had the handle, there was no blade with him. The blade must be in my hand or chest. 

 

He came running towards me, and jumped over my bed and on top of me. Screaming, kicking and punching me. My throat felt raw, my body is aching, everywhere it hurts. His hands were around my throat, choking me. With my last strength I yelled: “GOD HELP ME!”. The man slowly stood up, his eyes turned this wicked black and his face turned white. He turned around and ran out of the room.

 

By the time he reached the door, my daughter came running in. She grabbed hold of him, thinking it is her dadda. He picked her up and thru her into the room, against the door frame. That's when she knew something was very wrong. I'm still on the floor, not sure if I can move. Slowly I’m trying to stand up and walked towards her. I told her to go get her brother and to hurry back into my room.

 

As she came carrying him into the room, the man is in the passage on his way to us again. I'm stuck in one place, terrified, trembling, shaking. She closes the door, locked it and pressed the panic button. Which is connected to an armed response team and connected to our local Police station. I'm trying to think who I shall call to help. Riaan is in a meeting, I cannot bother him. My dad and brother lived about 10minutes away from us. I can phone them. But what is the number? I have no idea. 

 

The Peaceful voice inside me reminded me. “Remember you phoned Mom and Dad earlier, just press the GREEN button”.  My hands are shaking and trembling so much, I couldn’t, so my daughter pressed the button and my Dad answered. All I could say was: “Dad there was a man in the house, please come quick!” And I cried. With in minutes, the police arrived just as Dad and my brother arrived. They were in time to see the man jump over our 10 feet wall and run away. My brother and some of the police officers followed him, but he just disappeared in between the houses.

 

My dad knocked on our bedroom door and softly talked to us. The kids opened the door and Dad was there. My left hand was still clenching as I was holding on and clamping the pain. Dad forced my fingers open, and there on my palm, the blade was. Only a few scuff marks, and no blood. My face was swollen, but I had no bruises. My body was aching, swollen, sore, but also no bruises. Which was a miracle as I was on blood thinners and any bruise turned black. The only bruise I had, was where I fell against the windowsill and broke the tiles against my back.

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The police wanted me to describe the man. But I couldn't remember anything about him. Accept for his white T-shirt, denim pants, and bare feet. His hands felt like cold and wet snake skin. And he was short. His face I always see in my nightmares. BUT that's not what I want to remember. What I choose to remember is that when I needed God to help me, He and His army came and helped me in my darkest hour. He saved me and my children. He listened to my cry. God helped us during our most traumatic moment.

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Choose wisely what you want to remember when you're going thru trails and tribulations. Keep your heart open to see God's Hand in the situation. Call on God when you need help. He promise to be there and to help when we need help. He is faithful.

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