God was at the table in a feast, calling me to come in to join Him. She quietly asked if it meant anything to me. I began shakily. “I’ve always been too afraid to approach and ask God for things, perhaps not wanting to bother Him… Um, I suppose like it is with my dad.” I’d been having difficulty admitting it for quite some time – and only the Lord would have known the way I felt.

And then the Lord, through a renewal prayer session later, unveiled my distorted perspective and co-operation, knowingly and unknowingly, with the enemy. Believing Satan’s lies and accusations had influenced my thoughts and subsequent behaviour.

Revelation. My dad has always loved me. 

My dad’s choice to honour and respect my decision to stay in South Africa was the biggest act of love. He put aside his will, took upon the inconvenience and made sure all was in order, so I was taken care of and provided for. He must have also recognized a strength that I was not aware of at the time, in order for him to agree and allow me to stay back. Instead, I fell for the lies in my head that my dad had preferred my sisters.

My dad had given me my name but I never liked it. I chose to use another name instead. The prayer counsellors helped me see that my dad had chosen a name for me that meant ‘angel’ – and that he had given me everything I had asked for. He had granted my desires at his own expense.

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