You are my strength, You are my hope

By: PK ZeeJ

You are my strength, You are my hope

The warm sun fights its way through the dark curtains inviting me to open my eyes to yet another day. Yes, another day of broken promises, silent remorse and wishful thinking. Will today be different? Is the sun a sign? Get up and we’ll find out together…

Breakfast – a quiet affair. Open the refrigerator – half empty. So is the milk. I’ll let the little sister have that. Pour some orange juice and put bread into the toaster. Oh dear, the coffee pot has been brewing again. The bedroom door down the hall creaks open and I hear my sister tiptoe into the bathroom. She felt it too. The stillness of the morning, the soft hum of the laundry in the washroom and of course the dog. He wasn’t running around in the house, which meant he had either spent the night outside, or someone had let him out early this morning. And since the coffee pot was half full, I assumed he had been let out early. I left the toast, grabbed my juice and went back to my room. Well, today looks like it’s going to be normal – or as normal as has become accustomed in this household: at 9am: the promise of a day out to the beach, by 10am: the first foot off the wagon, at 11am: car keys are hidden by which time the fridge would already be stocked – with booze. Noon always brought the first sign of guilt but not the shame.

My sister had offered to make lunch today. She was an aspiring chef – even though she refused to waste money to actually go to cooking classes. Pasta with bacon and tomatoes was on the menu today. I helped with the freshly squeezed orange juice – it was about all I could do in the kitchen – oh bless my poor future husband. The ‘bum’ as we had now christened him was fast asleep in the living room – a half bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. We sat in her bedroom and ate – I must say the food was really good. Can’t say much for the juice though – I blame the sour oranges. After cleaning up we decided to do the grocery shopping. This was the only time we really felt alive. Like we were part of something. Part of a fully-functioning family. We laughed and made fun of the silly birds at the pet-shop. I bought ice-cream and we sat in the arcade and watched kids with their mums and dads. I saw a flicker of sadness flash over my sister’s face, but she smiled quickly when she looked my way. That was our talent. And we were really good at it: pretending that we were the happiest children around, when deep down we believed we had nothing, we were nothing and we didn’t belong anywhere.

We got home, unpacked and heard the toilet being flushed – another bout of nausea. We started dinner – knowing it would just be the 3 of us, mum would be home soon. 5pm: bath-time. I fed the dog and cleaned up the kitchen and took a shower after my sister had finished. Mum was setting the table when I finally emerged from the bathroom. A tender smile and quick touch on my arm. I felt warmer than I had in a long while. After dinner, we cleaned up and I let the dog in. The bum and the car had gone. Mum was taking a bath and my sister and I went to my room. She read out of the Bible: Joel 3:16 The Lord also shall roar out of Zion, and utter his voice from Jerusalem, and the heavens and the earth shall shake: but the Lord will be the hope of his people, and the strength of the children of Israel (KJV).

As I am getting ready for bed, I look out of my window – the bum isn’t back yet. And he won’t be for another few hours. I feel helpless, weak, without purpose. My inner being has been stripped, I have become a non-person. I lie on my back and ponder the scripture my sister had read a few minutes ago. Hope. What does that mean? Strength. I don’t have any left. I close my eyes and allow His spirit to fill me. No! I am not a non-person. I HAD something. I WAS someone. I BELONGED somewhere. God gave me Hope, He WAS my Hope. He WAS and IS my Strength. I felt it. I claimed it.

My bedroom door opened and there stood my sister. She was smiling and I knew she had felt it too. She closed the door and sat beside me on the bed. We held hands and closed our eyes and prayed. And we knew everything may not be the way it should be. But we had Jesus on our side. And therefore we could face another day…

He is our hope, He is our strength.

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