Friday, June 14 2024 - 5:25 AM
Photo by Dreamstime

Pressing On With Hope

One woman remembers a war she experienced years ago. With Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, many are reliving the trauma of their war-time memories.

Every day one lays down to sleep hoping to see the next rising sun. Whether or not you make it through the night depends. Yet, waking up does not guarantee you’ll be alive the next minute, or what your happiness will turn into. Nevertheless, be kind to yourself and others because each day comes with different situations that could alter your life forever, or it brings about good tidings that you’ve never dreamed of. This is where you think your good deeds, hope, or faith can play a role in turning your life around for good.

The Unexpected Visit

I call it the unexpected visit. I can still feel that excruciating pain crawling through my veins as my mind reels from dead bodies all around. At first, I didn’t believe my ears; as if I was dreaming, as I lay on my bed hearing the horrible sounds and screams of terror, as chills went through my spine. “Bomb that house!” The voice came like a shocking wave through my window as I tried to make sense of what was happening. It was the voice of the villains, the executioners, the dwellers of the jungle ripping through the heart of the city.

Would this be the end of my life, I asked myself? There was running and screaming everywhere. The thought of death, chopping off hands and limbs, was vivid in my mind as I put on my clothes and sneakers to make haste out of the house–but to where? People had been massacred in other parts of the country. I looked at the time. It was after 5:00 in the morning. I jumped out of the window and over the fence to escape the sinister perpetrators of these killing machines. All I could hear were people in my compound running for shelter to neighbors, only to experience the same chaos.

As with me, everyone was clueless, especially those waking up to the thunderous sounds of RPGs (Rocket Propel Grenades), AK47s, and other weapons. Houses were on fire and looting was occurring in every corner. It was now after 10:00 in the morning. Shooters stormed the next-door neighbor—one of them a member of the military who was locked up. My heart raced. I was so afraid, thinking what would happen if I was caught. Thank God their attention went somewhere else, and they left the area.

The Rebels

We were like innocent animals waiting to be slaughtered. The rebels were everywhere—in the central area and other parts of the city. To make matters worse, the president, who had fled to a neighboring country, announced that a peacekeeping force was on its way to the city and that everyone should stay indoors, or they might be mistaken as a rebel and shot.

At first, it sounded good to my ears, but it turned out to be terrible. The villain rebels, ordered everyone to come out in support of them. Those who refused would be shot or burned alive in their houses. However, at that moment, no one would tell you whether or not to stay in or go outside. Many people were killed. A friend of mine was also raped. Fortunately, she was left to return to her family. There was no national army to rescue us. We could only hope and pray for the peacekeepers to make it before our bodies were left for the vultures.

My mind went wild. Though I tried to stay calm, I thought of my dad, who was miles away. As people were running away with fear from their own dwellings, my compound became a haven for the moment. We all gathered together, Christians and Muslims, and prayed for protection. Everyone was scared. My small rice supply, palm oil (red oil), pepper, onions, and seasonings, were freely shared with others. It was time for togetherness, for sharing hopes and prayers. But the sounds of mortar and shelling from the hills killed the hunger in my stomach. There was no time for food, taking a shower, or anything—except for the one thing that refused to be erased from my mind—DEATH.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

All that changed when people started chanting ECOMOG—the peacekeepers have finally arrived. But the war wasn’t over. Things calmed down in my area, and a few days later, a call came for my family and me to leave for another country. Something I hadn’t dreamed about or planned for. But my way was paved to go to the United States. On my way, I felt awful for those left behind. I saw people with hands chopped off. A girl next to me had one eye covered in blood. I’m guessing they probably plucked her eye out. I felt terrible. Sadly, the hardships were just getting started—but there was hope. I could see the light at the far end of the tunnel.

If I were nothing, I wonder what I would have become—but I am something, and I am somebody.

If I were rich, I would have helped so many—which I’m trying to do.

If I were poor, I would have worked very hard to get out of poverty—which I’m doing.

If I were myself, I would just be myself—which I am.

A Positive, Still Voice

Voice is one of the most powerful motivators in a person’s life. Not just an ordinary voice, but a positive, still voice. And over the years, I have learned that this voice is like no other when it speaks to you through your mind and connects with other voices you hear and listen to—to bring out the good in you.

My experiences have taught me that life is what you make it. Today, my search for answers to life’s hard questions keeps me going and listening to the voice that leads me. Tomorrow is never promised, but tomorrow is another day and a reason to live and fulfill what you seek after. And for every day my eyes are opened, I know there is something extraordinary inside of me that speaks and gives me hope to keep pressing on.

“Trust in and rely confidently on the LORD with all your heart and do not rely on your own insight or understanding” (Proverbs 3:5, Amplified Bible).

Emile Whenzle writes from New York.

If you liked this, you might also like A Smile Brings Hope | How To Hear God’s Voice Regularly 

© 2002 - 2024, All rights reserved. Click here for content usage information.

About Emile Whenzle

Emile Whenzle

writes from New York.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

I accept the Privacy Policy