DARCIA
*** Content warning may disturb some readers.
“One simple sentence from my biology teacher, that two blue eyed parents could not produce a brown-eyed child, shook something deep within me. It was the first moment I understood the difference I saw in the mirror compared with my white family wasn’t imagined. This was the beginning of my journey of self-discovery.
“I was born in Dannevirke, a small New Zealand town with mountains at its doorstep. My single Mum fostered me out after birth due to family pressure. Six weeks later my mum took a stand and picked me up and took me home. Although I was told the name of my biological father, I have never met him. I remember at the age of three swirling my dress outside the chapel where my mum eventually married a hard-working shepherd. I was the bright intelligent kid, winning all the prizes at school, but by school certificate year, I had worked out this was simply a year of revision and wagged a year of school but still managed to come top in New Zealand exam results.
“As I pondered the revelation from my biology teacher, that two blue eyed parents could not produce a brown-eyed child, I wondered if two white skinned parents could produce a brown skinned child. I was angry, hurt and my life spiralled into rebellion. I spun off into weed, way too much alcohol, promiscuity and acting out. I left school and noticed all my friends were having babies, but I made a conscious decision this was not what I wanted. I would wait until I was older, married and settled with an ability to provide for my children.
“I fell in young love with a born again, back slidden Christian. I accepted Jesus and was Baptised but not with the right intent. I was trying to manipulate and impress him, hoping he would see me as a long-term partner. I left him and my life became a struggle trying to find accommodation and regular work. I found seasonal work, but money was so tight, and when I lost my job, I was also evicted from my flat as I owed money. My sister was also going through a rebellious stage and came to live with me, so I had an added burden of responsibility.
“At the lowest point in my life, with zero self-worth and utterly desperate, I became a prostitute. This was a way to make some money, pay rent and food but I hated it. In this lowest point God moved me.
“I moved on and into a flat with professional people in contrast to the red necked hoons I usually associated with. Responsible adults. Within the first few days I noticed a man from next door and my heart jumped. We met a few weeks later and spent several weeks becoming friends and confidants. I had come from a hard and fast lifestyle, so this was new for me, but he honoured me in my brokenness. When I told him about the prostitution he said, “You can stop that today and if you need money, I will help you.” I had let everyone take from me for such a long time, but now before me was a man who saw me and offered friendship and help.
“We moved cities with our combined hopes and dreams, determined to make a fresh start. I always acknowledged God. If someone asked me if I believed there was a God, I could honestly respond with a yes. There were basic things I refused to get into like horoscopes and crystals. We both got great jobs and seven years later, married.
“Within that first year we began IVF, dreaming of a family together. All my life I had assumed that one day I would be married and have children, and my life would be about raising them. After two rounds of IVF I had an existential crisis. It was a tough time and my husband one day told me I must get out of bed, even if I went and lay on the couch in another room. “You are not lying in this bed one more day willing yourself to die.” Given my history, I resisted going to the doctor or taking any medication. I was afraid that even one step in that direction could lead me back into addiction.
“Everyone liked Ian. He was a big strong man with a heart of gold, and I loved him with all my heart. No one would mess with him, but he approached life with kindness and loving strength.
“Talking in bed one morning, Ian started to have a massive grand mal seizure. I had no idea what was going on. Previously he had some severe headaches and had also collapsed on the golf course yet both times the doctor put it down to neck or back strain. No one realised what was happening beneath the surface. When Ian started seizing, I heard the voice of God clearly say, “You need to come back to me.” I heard it but was so caught up in the moment I did nothing about it.
“The ambulance arrived and he was taken to hospital, and a CT scan revealed he’d had a big bleed in his brain. The aneurysm had burst but had been leaking causing the headaches. It opened my eyes to the fact that doctors are human and even though we respect their education we need to be advocates of people we care about. Ian was airlifted to Auckland neurosurgical ward. He stabilized and while they were doing all the diagnostic stuff, they put him in a ward while they planned the surgical procedure to repair the aneurysm. At that time accommodation was made available for supporting families, so I was close by.
“Sadly, the first operation was unsuccessful or “they angered it.” Ian went from being in a bad way, to being critical and I was told he could die at any moment. He was put into a room on his own, deeply drugged because he had to be still. His head like a time bomb waiting to blow. Again, he stabilized.
“Ian’s niece, a young woman strong in the faith, came to the hospital and spoke scripture over him. She prayed, cried out to God and we stayed by his side. In those moments we were all carried by her faith. Nearly all those tending to Ian were professing Christian, and they prayed over him with such sincerity. It was sacred and beautiful.
“In my own headstrong way, I still believed I had to sort everything out, not God. I was yet to learn how much our Heavenly Father loves us and wants to help us.
“A second operation was scheduled, and we were warned how dangerous it was. “This is the only choice.” I liked to go to him and say goodnight in the stillness of the ward. I walked in and saw a very dark-skinned man sitting beside my husband. I immediately knew he was an angel of the Lord. He told me his name, Amidu. The Holy Spirit was emanating from him, and he looked at me and smiled. He explained he was a hospital aide, allocated to critical care patients to comfort and assist them. The following night he was back beside my husband, rejoicing, telling me, “Jesus has been here. Jesus was at the top of Ian’s bed and put His hands on his head. Jesus has healed Ian.” My faith journey had not yet begun but I wanted to believe. I looked at Ian but there was no visible change in him.
“A couple of days later when I went to Amidu’s church, a person stood up and said they had a word for someone who was carrying a burden: “Give the burden to God for He is going to show you His might and power.” I so wanted it to be me.
“Before the second operation the surgeon warned me there was a great chance Ian would not be going home. “This is life or death.” I interrupted him declaring, “Jesus has healed him.” He responded with, “Whatever lady.” We immediately went down to the hospital chapel and prayed fervently for Ian and the surgeons. I needed a miracle.
“About three hours later the phone rang. “Hello, I’m the charge nurse on ward six. I wanted to let you know Ian is here and sitting up in bed eating an ice block if you would like to come and visit him.” What? Do you have the right person?
“I ran to be by his side and found him just as the nurse had said, sitting up in bed. He recognised us all. He was cognizant. Cheeky Ian was back. Praise God. Thank you, Jesus. Later when the surgeon did the rounds he explained when they went into the site of the aneurysm it had completely healed, and they found only scar tissue. Whooping with joy I asked if he had ever seen that before. “I have never seen that in my entire career,” he replied.
“Loudly I declared, “Jesus healed him. Jesus healed my husband.”
“God miraculously healed Ian and that cemented for me the power of God. There before me was living, breathing proof of a miracle. I struggled to comprehend it. God astounded the surgical team – oh how they must have talked about it!
“It took Ian a long time to learn to walk again, but he was a determined man and keen to take up his work contract as soon as possible. Even though he was not permitted to drive, he would often start work at 4am or on one occasion even hitchhiked into town to his work site. No matter how early he started work, he always came home for breakfast, made me coffee and we read the word together. That time was Holy ground for us and a daily reminder of God’s presence and faithfulness.
“Ian was a biker and rode a Harley Davidson. A couple of his mates were strong Christians and invited us both to go to their church. Ian encountered God for himself, and his life changed as a born-again Christian. He understood Jesus healed him.
“Twelve busy years passed, then after doing some heavy work, Ian suffered a heart attack. Even with his medical history this was not treated seriously or accurately diagnosed. The following morning, back at the hospital once more, he was admitted. In those days, it was not standard practice to order an ECG when a patient presented with certain warning signs.
“Later, it was discovered that he suffered a massive heart infarction [[a severe blockage in a coronary artery that cut off blood and oxygen to a large portion of his heart muscle, leading to rapid tissue death]. Unfortunately, due to the significant delay and after being discharged without identifying the issue, his heart was irreparably damaged. The medication prescribed. that was contraindicated had to be addressed, but then he was discharged and sent home. For a brief time, his health and fitness improved. He had an aneurysm and worked his way back. He had a heart attack and worked his way back. Life was great!
After 2 failed attempts to have children of our own, I decided I did not want to be chained to a desk, and after a few different ‘trials’ of other pursuits, I dared to believe I could fulfill a lifelong dream, to create beautiful lighting. I shared this with Ian, and in his typical fashion, he supported me wholeheartedly.
“Aware this new inspiration required money, supportive, loving Ian drove off one day on his beloved Harley and arrived home with a wad of cash to press into my hands with the words ‘honey go, make your lights’. We made lights together, gathering skills as we progressed. We proved ourselves in the industry, honing my skills and abilities. Ian never doubted me and his faith in me, unwavering.
“As I gained more momentum, tragedy struck. We arrived home together from Wellington after delivering a huge light. As we stood in the kitchen together, happy and excited about the future, Ian suffered a massive heart attack and collapsed. Medics were unable to revive him. I was on my knees on the back doorstep screaming out to God ‘don’t take my husband. I know you can save him, you’ve done it before’. I was facing east, and I sensed a peace come over me quieting all the panic, fear and doubt raging in me. A deep stillness, and warmth moved through me. I stood up and knew Ian was gone. God had taken him.
“My whole world exploded. I just couldn’t comprehend he was gone.
“I threw myself into work as a coping mechanism. Huge projects arrived unbidden in my inbox, including spelling out the name Adele for her global singing tour. Big entertainers such as Queen, Adam Lambert, Eminem, Gun’s n Roses. Plus, creative design work for events like the Ed Sheeran tour, and one-off custom designs for city councils, hospitality and airports. It was a busy time and huge learning curve.
I was angry with God and rebelled. After the death of my Mum who also lived on our property, I was so angry I deliberately blasphemed after a lifetime of never taking the name of the Lord in vain, as a way of venting my pain and rage. It took a lot of pain until finally God told me to stop fighting and surrender it all to him. He softened my heart, and I started seeking Him again. I asked God for friends to fill the loneliness and tried to make sense of what the world was becoming in all its craziness. I kept hearing, go to church. I didn’t want to go to church. Go to church. I decided I didn’t really like Christians, but the answer was always the same, go to church. One Sunday morning I was returning home, and I heard Him say once more ‘go to church’. I pulled over and looked at my phone for the nearest churches and times of the services. I decided on one church, but God took over and directed me to another church and the timing was perfect. I love the worship and have made many friends by joining a small group and feel like I am accepted and a part of this Christian community Although I was Baptised when I was 17 for the wrong reasons, last year as part of God transforming me, I was re-Baptised. Even though I had kicked and screamed, God did it His way. In that surrender I found a peace and freedom only loving Him can bring. God has never failed me. He has redeemed every experience of my life for His purposes, and today I walk in partnership with Him”.
“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint”. Isaiah 40:31