When God Gives Life a Purpose E-Book

Léia Costa

• Herausgeber: Editora Dialética
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 354

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

When God gives life a purpose, everything is transformed, and the sun will always shine, even in the midst of winter! This is the author's personal account of her life journey, where she discovers her faith in God and the resilience to persevere. The book delves deeper than self-help, emphasizing living in Cod while facing life's adversities and triumphing over them. The studies were carried out with exceptional devotion to construct sound biblical solutions. The ideas display an innovative trait and uncover plentiful prospects. Their luminosity, perseverance, and capacity to convey meanings make them authentic spiritual gifts that are available to everyone and signify a condition to be unraveled. In general, the relationship between the Word and the idea promotes the relationship between new concepts, attitudes, and changes. The quality of the text is determined by the complex and enigmatic process of aligning the presented elements with the social-cognitive content. Reading is viewed as an intentional concept, where the participants are active agents who construct themselves and each other through dialogic exchanges.

Leseprobe

A great joy filled my heart as I was invited to write the preface to this book. I am very grateful to this special woman who, with the help of God, brought this work to life, a story with many testimonies of what God does in the lives of those who fear Him.

Blessed is everyone that feareth the Lord; that walketh in his ways. For thou shalt eat the labour of thine hands: happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with thee. Thy wife shall be as a fruitful vine by the sides of thine house: thy children like olive plants round about thy table. Behold, that thus shall the man be blessed that feareth the Lord. The Lord shall bless thee out of Zion: and thou shalt see the good of Jerusalem all the days of thy life. Yea, thou shalt see thy children’s children, and peace upon Israel. (Psalms 128:1-6 – KJV).

The author skillfully weaves together life experiences and perseverance to create a life story where nothing would be possible without God. I wholeheartedly suggest this book, as I can verify the truthfulness of the narrative, and given the honor of knowing the author as a friend, a Sister in Christ, a co-worker at the same medical institution, a dedicated and compassionate nurse, an intercessor for the ailing, a constant presence in sickness and in health, a zealous mother, a loving wife, a missionary devoted to God, and a missionary with a robust sense of “GO” in Mark 16:15 “Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature”.

“WHEN GOD GIVES LIFE A PURPOSE” is a manual that teaches you how to stay strong in your faith in God no matter what!

Congratulations, my friend!

Jane Pierf

Bachelor of Science in Nursing, Continuing Education

Course on Theology at Seminário Teológico Carisma.

SUMÁRIO

Capa

Folha de Rosto

Créditos

INTRODUCTION I call it a beginning

CHAPTER 1 Personal testimony

CHAPTER 2 At school

CHAPTER 3 Principles that will remain with me for the rest of my life

CHAPTER 4 Yarns from the past

CHAPTER 5 Greatest love

CHAPTER 6 Learning how to say no

CHAPTER 7 A friend finds herself pregnant

CHAPTER 8 Advising a young lady

CHAPTER 9 Dreams are also warnings

CHAPTER 10 To block and to resist are verbs that go together

CHAPTER 11 The fatherhood of God

CHAPTER 12 A daily death from Alzheimer’s

CHAPTER 13 God unites purposes

REFERENCES

Landmarks

cover

titlepage

copyright-page

Table of Contents

bibliography

INTRODUCTION I call it a beginning

To grasp some of this actual life-story, or at least give it a go, as I’m trying to put the pieces together and make sense of it myself, so that I stay mindful of me not knowing the entire truth. The world says that truth has two sides. Yet, according to my faith, I am sure that really there is only God’s perspective, since He knows our destiny before it comes, and He knew us before our own bones were formed.

As thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all. (Ecclesiastes 11:5 – ACL)

On November 17th, 1916, a journey that would involve many lives, and bring knowledge and victory, began. Through the life of one family, it was God’s plan to touch the lives of many families. And so Albertino Costa came into the world, and he would carry on the Costa family in a way that seemed supernatural to some, and as part of God’s plan for the Holy Scriptures to be brought to pass. Several lives were intertwined because God does not connect people, but purposes.

The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein. For he hath founded it upon the seas, and established it upon the floods. Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in his holy place? He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully. He shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of his salvation. This is the generation of them that seek him, that seek thy face, O Jacob. Selah. (Psalm 24; 1-6 – KJV)

I ask you, reader, to lean on your Bible to traverse this book because the foundation of our life is found there, and I always emphasize that the Scriptures are our instruction manual for life! The biblical basis for my sustenance, balance, and correction is really indisputable!

2 Timothy 3:16 “All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness”.

Precisely fourteen years and five months later, on May 3rd, 1931, Silvia Barbosa de Souza was born, and Albertino would never have guessed that she would eventually become his spouse. In 1968, they celebrated matrimony in a humble municipality in the rural area of Minas Gerais/Brazil, known as Aranha. The year of 1969 finally brought the joyous arrival of the baby girl that had been so eagerly expected, as told by those who followed the pregnancy. A full-term baby (40 weeks gestation), but SGA (Small for Gestational Age) with a weight of 1400gr, was delivered. They named her Rosilene Aparecida Costa (my sister). The couple’s life continued as usual, and the small girl overcame her low birth weight and was raised in a nurturing and loving environment. In 1973, a girl was born and joined the family. This pregnancy, though, was not intentional. From the beginning, it was not welcomed or accepted as they already had a daughter who perfectly fit the ideal of beauty and was yearned for. A LGA (Large for Gestational Age) baby girl, with a weight of 3950gr, in stark contrast to the first pregnancy. She was named Rosiléia de Fátima Costa. So, this is where my journey starts! Welcome!

CHAPTER 1 Personal testimony

The Bible states that the same fountain cannot produce both sweet and bitter water and I apply that to my life, that I cannot speak both blessing and cursing with the same mouth! Don’t let the character of someone else bring out your own dark side! Let someone else’s wrongdoings be enough! Don’t conform to what everyone else is doing! I am not “Christianese” (this is how I refer to words or phrases used in Christian circles as jargon), I still make mistakes and have flaws, but I won’t let someone else’s mistakes make mine any worse. It’s not about being “nice”. It’s about not allowing the other person to be so nasty to me! It may not be easy, but, treasured reader, remember to be a dutiful child and respect God’s rules! It’s obvious that your success in many areas has gotten under people’s skin! Prosperity ruffles feathers! So does being loved! Bear in mind, your Heavenly Father is the first to love you, then your family, friends, and fellow followers of Christ. Set your sights on the Heavenly realm and steer your thoughts towards Christ! You have already won! Don’t worry, the hard times won’t last forever! Believe! Have confidence!

A ship is not in danger of sinking because of the surrounding water. A ship sinks because of the influx of water that inundates its interior. So, it doesn’t matter what is happening around you, surrounding your life. What matters is your ability to shield your inner self from the negative impact of external events that may drag you down and cause your life to sink. Steer the “Boat” of your life with courage, determination, strength, and faith in God.

COVERED BY THE HAND OF GOD

That day, the preaching centered on giving glory to God and staying in the cleft. Although God takes you to the Rock, He places you in the cleft and continues to shield you with His hand. Do you recall the passage? Splendid lecture built on:

And he said, “Please, show me Your glory.” Then He said, “I will make all My goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim the name of the Lord before you. I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion.” But He said, “You cannot see My face; for no man shall see Me, and live.” And the Lord said, “Here is a place by Me, and you shall stand on the rock. So it shall be, while My glory passes by, that I will put you in the cleft of the rock and will cover you with My hand while I pass by. Then I will take away My hand, and you shall see My back; but My face shall not be seen.”. (Exodus 33:18-23, ACL)

A rock is a mass of stone; a cliff is a high, steep, or overhanging face of rock. You won’t find comfort in the cleft; you must conform to its shape. However, sometimes God can use uncomfortable situations to reveal His Glory, outstretching His hand to cover you, even if you only see Its back!

In how many instances has God positioned me in the Rock, on a sharply inclined precipice, which may be uncomfortable, since who claims that growth and progress can happen without some discomfort? But in such distress, you will be supported by the hands of God, or better, protected by the hands of God. I had lost count of how often the Father’s hands had saved me from the worst! The benevolence of God is immeasurable! His merciful compassion is renewed every morning, supporting us. Despite a mix of mistakes and correct turns, I carried on for a good amount of time. It was there that I learned how to walk and grow!

“Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, Because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3: 22-23, ACL).

Isaiah spoke with great clarity: “But those who wait on the Lord Shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles; They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint” (Isaiah 40:31 – ACL).

As the Lord’s mercies were renewed each morning, I learned to wait on Him more! Renewed with strength, I awoke from trouble and soared like an eagle. From above, in God’s presence, I saw the path and walked tirelessly towards victory. Those days were not peaceful at all, I won’t pretend they were. My difficulties were nothing compared to the Lord’s faithfulness! I spent countless nights crying and days in agony, unsure of what to do, but the wait was worth it! Today, I am writing to share my victory with all of you!!

CHAPTER 2 At school

My classmates would often tease me, calling my father my grandpa when he picked me up or dropped me off at school: “Look, your grandpa is here!”. “Grandpa?” was my thought. Can’t they tell he’s my pops?” Even if they did, it was a way of annoying me, after all, I clearly didn’t like the “innocent child’s play”. Despite everything, back then, my father could still walk, talk, and protect me, so things were better! My sister and I used to be taken to Yeyê Bar in Betânia by him to drink Crush, a delicious soft drink, and it was such a good time. I faced another challenge in life when my father had a stroke and was left with chronic complications. He became weak and lost his ability to speak and walk, leading to my mother’s increased anger and aggression towards us. She would verbally and physically abuse us without reason if she thought we were going to disobey her. We didn’t have a clue about why we were being beaten most of the time…

I have vivid memories of being hit with a garden hose or light wire countless times. I was puzzled by why someone would take a thick wire and cut it with a razor in half without detaching the parts and use it to hit a child. This was my mother’s way of getting ready to punish us. She hit us recklessly with no concern for where she was striking or what body part she might hit, face, legs, back… Ela I never understood her anger as she beat us and bellowed. She abused us with words saying that we were sluts, bitches, and lost daughters. Countless times she would stomp on our necks and bellies without giving us a chance to defend ourselves or question why! I was sent to school in winter and in summer dressed in the long-sleeved school uniform, so that no one would see the marks of the beatings with the hose or the light wire that marked my fragile body and so that no one would find out about my life at home.

One day, to my surprise, I was chosen to be my dear teacher Lúcia’s helper for the day. I have a vivid memory of her! She was super sweet, polite, smelled amazing, and adored all the kids. However, countless times she burst into tears when we asked her if she had children — she told us that God didn’t bless her with children, but she thought of all the school kids as her own, and we were what made her life joyful. Being the helper of the day, I had the privilege to enjoy a hot dog and juice in the library with the teacher. I even helped her by carrying her bag and work material! Perhaps you’re unaware of the importance of such a day, but it was a day every student dreamed of: spending the break with your favorite teacher! So, we had a chat over a tasty snack on that occasion. When we finished our snack, she confided in me about her childhood. Her mother physically abused her, leaving her with marks that made her self-conscious. As a result, she wore long- sleeved shirts even in hot weather. At that moment, I lifted my uniform sweatshirt and revealed the bruises from the beatings I had suffered from my mother and told my teacher that I also wore winter clothes to hide them. My teacher had tears on their face, which surprised me. I recall embracing my teacher and, naïve as the child I was, reassuring her by saying: “Do not weep, dear teacher, for one day when I am grown, my mother will stop striking me just as your mother ceased and then I will wear a T-shirt like you! Don’t cry, one day I’ll grow up!”! The teacher, whom I held dear, hugged me and cried even more after I tried to comfort her. At that moment, I was unaware of what had happened, but my life changed significantly. Following the library incident, there was a parent-teacher meeting and afterwards, although the beatings didn’t stop, their frequency decreased. I came to understand today that my teacher took the chance to confirm her suspicions about the abuse I was experiencing. Although I never found out what occurred during the parent-teacher meeting, I know that she used the opportunity well, and it resulted in an improvement in my reality at home.

“Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of Heaven” (Mathew 18:3, ACL).

CHAPTER 3 Principles that will remain with me for the rest of my life

"Dear child, rest assured that everything we possess has been granted by God, without exception. To demonstrate our gratitude and thankfulness, we must give ten percent back to Him, not out of a sense of duty but out of love!”

My father, the philosopher Albertino whom I frequently mention, imparted to me the lesson of expressing gratitude to God with these very words! Dad worked as a plowman, lacking any kind of formal education. He made his living by cultivating tomatoes, chayote, and white Egyptian flowers used for bouquets. He was a renter of farmland, growing crops and selling the harvest in boxes at Ceasaminas, a distribution hub, and also in the rural municipality of Barbacena.

Ten percent of his sales would be given to the church, and the first harvests would be offered by taking the best box to the Catholic Church in the Betânia neighborhood, where we lived. In our yard, he cultivated numerous banana trees and manioc shrubs for our sustenance. The most exquisite and voluminous bunch of bananas and manioc he picked was offered to the church. The best should be given to God - that was his most important teaching. “Listen, kid. God doesn’t eat bananas or manioc. But the priest here is in charge of leading folks to God, and he’s taken a vow of poverty. He gets by on donations from the faithful. He’s here to teach us on behalf of God, so we gotta watch out for him”.

“The best of all first fruits of any kind, and every sacrifice of any kind from all your sacrifices, shall be the priest’s; also you shall give to the priest the first of your ground meal, to cause a blessing to rest on your house” (Ezekiel 44:30, ACL).

“Honor the Lord with your possessions, And with the firstfruits of all your increase; 10 So your barns will be filled with plenty, And your vats will overflow with new wine” (Proverbs 3:9-10 – ACL).

That’s how my dad stuck to his beliefs. “I never learned to read or write,” he would always say. “Drawing the letters in my name is something I can do, but only from memory and not by knowing which letters they are. But you and your sister will study and, besides drawing the letters, you will be able to distinguish one letter from another. One can speak well without being a good writer, speaking right doesn’t depend on writing skills, it’s more about paying attention, because it’s not nice to sound like an uneducated person from the countryside. I didn’t get any education, but I can tell when someone’s not speaking correctly just by listening to them”. Dad watched TV shows with the attitude of an intellectual and rehearsed unfamiliar words to improve his pronunciation. Whenever he was unsure of the meaning, he would ask the neighbor or my mother, which helped him improve his vocabulary. When he went to church, he would intently listen to the priest’s words and the interpretation of biblical passages during the service, so that he could later convey them to us as children’s tales. My dad was involved in a group called SVDP - Society of St. Vincent de Paul, also known as Vincentians. Home visits, commonly referred to as “inquiries,” were conducted to assess the needs of individuals in need and provide them with assistance, including groceries, clothing, and medicine, or make home improvements in houses built in high-risk areas. He always brought me along to learn and assist in whatever was suitable for my age. I recall visiting the home of Mr. José Sabino, a very poor man who lived on a roadside lot, where he slept on a Kombi bench draped with handcrafted patchwork rugs made by his wife, Dona Júlia. And this old man had suffered a stroke and could not speak or walk. He could not feed himself and we had to put the food mashed with a fork in his mouth so that he could eat. On Sundays, Dad would ask my mother to make lunch earlier and to take out the food for them, after all, they had small children who, like us, wanted something different to eat on Sundays, nothing fairer than to share with them the blessings that God was giving us. As soon as lunch was ready, we took it to them so that they could eat while it was still warm. Since we had warm, fresh food in our house every day, we could wait and warm it up to eat on the way back. As we arrived at Mr. José Sabino’s house, we recited a prayer expressing gratitude for their life and asked for good health for the sick. My father gave me permission to feed Mr. José Sabino cautiously with the assistance of a spotless dishcloth, which was the best one my mother had, while his family ate. My father would ask, “Did you understand what we just did?” upon our return home. And we wuold explain: “God expected us to look after the little ones, and we did just that!”. We are blessed with abundance to help those who are less fortunate and bring joy into their lives. When we give to someone in need, we are fulfilling God’s words. This is an example of brotherly love! It’s not charity or alms, it’s love! God loved us first and gave us a seed to share since cooked food doesn’t just appear!

We once visited Ms. Elizabeth Regina, a single mother who lived with her six children in a shoddy wooden house on an empty lot, with no infrastructure, water, or electricity. So destitute were they that rats lived with them, who seemed unperturbed by the vermin’s proximity. They were emaciated children with swollen bellies, and they gazed at us fearfully through the wooden doorway. When we arrived, my father said: “Go out and play with the children, call them to play and give them the toys you brought with you, don’t ask them anything about their lives, just play and treat them with love and respect”.

Meanwhile, he went with the other Vincentians and their wives to have a conversation with Dona Elizabeth. Being obedient came naturally to me and I was great at playing. It didn’t take long for me to make friends. When children first play together, they have a natural ability to relate to each other with little inquiry. The game cannot wait as time rushes by. I wasn’t sure what the grown-ups were discussing, but we returned multiple times and a brick shed with a red-cement floor (a popular option back then, cheaper, and simpler to maintain) was built.

A water tank and electricity were provided. Ms. Elizabeth Regina started doing laundry for my mother and cleaning for another lady. In addition to her salary, the Conference — as the group was called — provided Ms. Elizabeth with basic goods each month. Clothes and slippers were delivered to the mother and the children the following month. The school head was told about the family’s situation and so the children started attending the same public school as us. That we were already friends made it easier to introduce them to other children, who treated them like just another kid to play with, with no knowledge of their background. Besides being first in line for school lunch, nothing else made them different from the other students.

“Give a lot of the little you have, and you will have no trouble giving a lot of the plenty you have,” was one of my dad’s teachings. Share what you have, even if it is not much.

“He who is faithful in what is least is faithful also in much; and he who is unjust in what is least is unjust also in much” (Lk 16:10, ACL).

Without fail, my mother would set up the table every day for our meals, even when we had no guests. We ate using fork and knife, with proper posture, napkins and no elbows on the table or talking with our mouths full. We were only allowed to talk about pleasant things during meals and were forbidden from fighting or disagreeing, except for my mother, who would argue and discipline us when she deemed it necessary. We ate our meals together after giving thanks for the food. And at the end, we all helped to clean up the kitchen while my father swept the dining room and the kitchen.

We would let no one who came to our door asking for water or food leave empty-handed. My father used to say that it’s pointless to say “God bless you” and let the other person leave hungry or thirsty. A glass cup containing chilled purified water was offered to the visitor, the mixture giving it a more refreshing and appealing taste. Despite the unlikelihood of meeting again, we saw him not as a beggar but as a God-sent guest in need of our help. And so my father taught me the basics of living in peace! Dad taught me that peace with the other depended on me and not on the other!

The amazing thing is that he would say “All this is written in the scripture I don’t know where, but I know I heard the priest say it one day” or another time he would state “Someone read it in the Adoremos book (an SSVP monthly subscription book).

Even without literacy skills, he was able to demonstrate his love and obedience towards the Bible. With each passing day, my mother grew increasingly aggressive and violent. He put on a façade of everything being alright and told us not to bother my mother since she was on edge. Many times we would catch him hugging my mother and kissing her and say “Eita muller enfadada pero amo”. Being of Portuguese origin, Dad had a liking towards the Galician language. My mother’s constant grumpiness never seemed to faze my father, which made it clear how much he loved her.

CHAPTER 4 Yarns from the past

What I know about my childhood and infancy is primarily from my mother’s recollections and a few instances from close friends. But what really impressed me were the countless times my mother made sure to point out that I was not welcome, and that even though she tried everything to get me out, it seemed that I was clinging to her womb and willing not to leave before it was time. Yes, there is a time for everything on this earth. One of her accounts narrates how she visited the Felício Rocho Hospital in Belo Horizonte for a consultation and requested the doctor to remove me, to which the doctor responded, “Are you out of your mind? Here is where we carry out the delivery of babies and give them the chance to live! We don’t murder! Have you ever thought that this child may one day bring you great joy or be your caregiver in old age? No, madam, this child will fill your life with joy and honor. Go home and rest, and things will be just fine”. The baby’s sex and developmental progress were impossible to determine since ultrasounds did not exist at that time. After 40 weeks of gestation, on a beautiful Friday night on January 5, 1973, at the same Felício Rocho Hospital, I was born on a stretcher because there was no time to take my mother to the delivery room. My birth was smooth sailing! I was born weighing 3950 grams with blonde hair and blue eyes! The eyes that were once blue faded and the blonde hair... I have given it a little push over the years, there is nothing like a good hairstylist! But my good looks did not make it any easier for me to win my mother’s love. In contrast, my father would carry me around and proudly display his beautiful doll to everyone. It was during this time that my uncle Rui, my mother’s brother, got hitched to Aunt Marlene. They had recently lost a child and sought solace at my parents’ home to deal with the grief. I was compared to a “Buddha” by her because of my plumpness. Coming from her, it was a flattering remark!

At forty-five days old, I underwent surgery for an inguinal hernia. Already with anemia, I experienced excessive blood loss during the procedure. Blood transfusions were not common practice at that time, leaving me with slim chances of survival, according to the surgeons. My mother had some serious and delicate news to share after returning home. I did not improve for days, but neither did I die. Since there was no infection, the doctors released me to spend my last moments with my family. What struck me as strange was that parents did not come to the hospital with their children. The hospitalization was performed, and the parents would visit their children and see them through a glass window in the pediatric ward, but they could not enter the room. Upon my discharge, I returned home anemic and received a plethora of opinions on my treatment. With my pale complexion, a neighbor suggested to my mother that I should consume cooked beets several times a day as a solution to bolster my strength. The suggestion was accepted, and my mother started feeding me bit by bit. After a while, much to her and the doctors’ amazement, I began to respond, eat more and my complexion gradually improved. Despite my objections, many still maintain that I look pale, which I dispute as I am a light-skinned brunette! My recovery was fostered by care and love, and God’s plans are not disrupted.

I grew up recovering every day and was a chubby baby due to the concern of those around me for my health — if I ate a lot, I would not get ill. Nevertheless, I had to confront my sister’s childish efforts to challenge my existence, as she frequently stated, “What is the purpose of this little brat being here?” One of her attempts reportedly involved throwing a pillow upwards towards the chandelier on the ceiling, which could have hit me as it fell! Fortunately, her aim was consistently poor, causing the chandelier to fall askew while I cried and screamed in terror. My father caught her attempting to smother me with a pillow when he heard my distressed gasp. Instead of gently and lovingly correcting my sister and showing I was her friend and little sister, my mother began to feed this anger of Rosilene’s against me and to tell me that my sister did not like me. Our rivalry and competitive streak have persisted over the years.

“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under Heaven”. (Ecclesiastes 3:1 – ACL)

“I know that You can do everything, and that no purpose of Yours can be withheld from You.”. (Job 42:2 – ACL)

I had grown up a bit, but I still did not walk! However, this fact was not enough to grab my mother’s attention and take me to the doctor to discover what was wrong. She believed without a doubt that my inability to walk was due to me being fat and lazy. As time passed, whenever I attempted to walk, I would repeatedly fall and could not get up on my own. Moreover, my knees would swell up and hurt. How many times, at my maternal grandmother’s house, would my cousins run and leave me behind, or play hide-and-seek while I could never find anyone? I was confined indoors, as it was difficult for them to look after me and prevent me from falling in the backyard while they played and ran around. My aunts would give me books and magazines to look at during children’s activities, which I found painful and difficult. This led to a strong passion for reading, even though I was very young and only looked at pictures and created my own stories. My school life was difficult as I could not join in with my classmates for activities like running or P.E. because of my knee dislocation issue. My teacher noticed, and my mother was called to take me to a doctor for an examination. Bilateral patellar subluxation was the medical diagnosis. The surgery, which involved fixing the patella in place with a metal pin, was not performed on children because it could potentially affect their growth. I came back home with a fresh diagnosis but the same issue. Over the years, falls and injuries have been too many to count. My classmates used to make fun of me for walking slowly and awkwardly.

At the age of seven, I was ill at home with fainting and vomiting, and I remained unconscious for quite some time. “Cerebral congestion” was the diagnosis reached by the doctors after conducting a battery of tests while I was hospitalized. “Cerebral congestion” is a clinical condition marked by an increase in the intravascular compartments of the brain, typically related to cerebral edema. In the past, this term was commonly used to describe a variety of brain, neurological, and mental disorders, but it is no longer in use. Because there wasn’t much to report or attend to, I was administered a significant amount of intravenous fluids and given Plasil, an anti-emetic medication. They requested us to monitor for any behavioral alterations and if I was stable after 24 hours, I could go home, but there was a chance of neurological after effects that were unpredictable. Due to the unavailability of CT scanners at the time, we relied on our old and well- known X-ray to diagnose all the suspected pathologies. And there I went home after 24 hours of observation, safe and sound, with no neurological problem, which became a meme in the family: “Or were there any problems?” That’s correct, bullying was already happening and no one was considering the child’s well-being. Bullying is a deliberate and repetitive act of violence against a vulnerable person that can result in physical and psychological damage to the victims. Nowadays, the term “meme” is used online to describe any content that becomes popular by being copied or imitated.

Patella subluxation led me through a plethora of adventures. I fell once on the street and the Copasa/MG sanitation company workers diverted traffic to give my mother time to arrive and fix my dislocated kneecap. The doctors had already instructed her on what to do in case of a basic dislocation without skin damage. Think of the team of men working on the scene and disoriented by the situation of a kid lying on the pavement with her kneecap completely dislocated and crying out in pain - there was no SAMU (Emergency Medical Services) at that time. Falling caused me a great deal of pain and embarrassment. After a while, my classmates realized that they should call my mother to help with my kneecap dislocation. She would either repair it, or failing that, she would take me to the ER, where my leg would be immobilized in a cast for as long as a month.

As a teenager, I had a tragic fall on the school street that left me with a badly injured knee and bleeding on the pavement. - Parrot, the Physical Education instructor, who earned his nickname because of his beak-like elongated nose, provided assistance and accompanied both me and my mother to the hospital’s emergency ward. Upon our arrival at the hospital, he accompanied me to the examination room, while my mother was left waiting outside. Being a physical therapist, Parrot asked the doctor every question possible, as he was alarmed by such a high-risk situation. His studies had shown that surgical interventions could yield positive results in such cases. Past fears had been dissipated due to compelling arguments and recent studies highlighting remarkable benefits to patients. I felt like a big shot in the spotlight! While examining me, the doctors and my teacher shared their opinions and experiences on my case, with my teacher calling me “little baby girl” which caused them to assume he was my father. The doctors were very considerate towards the well-informed “father” and decided on a 30-day immobilization with a plaster cast, coupled with a referral to the best knee surgeon at the Welfare Institute of the Public Servants of the State of Minas Gerais’ hospital (my mother, a teacher in the state public school system, had this remarkable health insurance). With all dates set and established, I was discharged to return home and await the ground-breaking treatment using titanium rods and plates, which were starting to revolutionize the field of orthopedic surgery.

Halfway through this wait, when I was already on the mend, it turned out that the Catholic Church I attended had arranged a weekend trip. On Saturday evening, I made my way to the church office to submit my signed permission form for the group event. Much to my astonishment, upon entering the secretary’s office, I stumbled and my kneecap dislocated in a manner that had never happened before. I found myself amidst tears and painful cries, surrounded by a crowd of people who were unsure of how to react, having never experienced such a spectacle before. As they sought out my mother to aid me, Father Henrico Puorco, a member of the Vila Regia Community in Bethania and of Italian descent, arrived to find out the cause of the cries. Upon seeing the situation, he requested the assistance of a skilled young man named Vicente, who served as a nurse at the parish house and had vast experience in hospitals. Stanley Dias (policeman) and Pedro (journalist) arrived with him, and using their first-aid knowledge, they immobilized me and put me on the floor of a VW van. When my mother arrived, we were set to leave for the hospital. Upon arriving at the hospital, my mother filled out my form, but she was not allowed to come with me. But my friends managed to enter by presenting a persuasive argument to the doorman, who was clueless about the situation. The priest entered solely because of his priesthood. The nurse entered by showing his professional ID. The policeman, in uniform, gained access with little explanation to the doorman, and the journalist entered as he was covering the case. The reason my mother did not go in was that there were already too many people with me. I was among the first to be attended to! I believe it was due to the commotion they were creating to aid me. To put it succinctly, after the X-ray and evaluations by a number of orthopedists, it was determined that my surgery was required, also because the entourage accompanying me was pressuring for a speedy resolution to my long-standing problem. Following pain medication and referral for surgical assessments, I was released from the hospital and scheduled for a medical consultation with Dr. José (name changed to protect privacy). The appointment happened on a thrilling Saturday of the same week, with the group God had given me, resolving a problem my mother could not fix for years. Yes, God manages everything, and everything aligns for the welfare of those who love and hold Him in high regard.

At the start of the year, I had my first surgery and due to a quick recovery, the doctors decided to operate on my other knee at the end of the year. “Quick recovery” according to them, of course. For me, the days of physical therapy, being bedridden, and relying on someone to help me bathe and move around, felt like an eternity.

Luciana Brandão, my beloved Tica, was always there to give me endless baths and offer me fresh water and iced juice. In addition, she would always put up with my bad mood, for I was incapable of turning myself over in bed. When it happened, I was just fourteen, and she was likely in her twenties. Although I can’t recall her exact age, her kindness towards me is etched in my memory. Sometimes, she would join me, either reading a book or attentively listening, and no doubt, she was a competent advisor! We had the arguments of children, but we also hugged and smiled like them. God handles all the details, and she was, and continues to be, a sister that God placed in my life! We can go a long time without talking, but when we do, we pick up the conversation where we left off without any formalities. Given that we were members of the youth group (she was in the youth group, and I was in the mini-youth group at our parish), talking about God was a good topic for us. Mrs. Terezinha (her mother), Marlene, Miriam, and Edith (her sisters-in-law) were a supportive family that helped me. Whether it be counsel, a willing ear, or just a kind act like stopping at the supermarket or on the street to inquire about my welfare, ah! This made me feel valued and loved. Appreciation and attention were not exactly the forte in my home! Unaware of the importance of those moments, they unknowingly bestowed a blessing upon me from God, ultimately contributing to my personal development. Today, I am putting into practice their attitudes exactly. I halt and give heed to the children, adolescents, youths, grown-ups, and seniors that cross my path, as there might always be a “Léia” out there, who, akin to me, is yearning for some consideration and tenderness that she does not receive at her home. According to my household, I appear like a politician while strolling — taking two steps and greeting someone, making a stop in the supermarket to exchange greetings and lend an ear to strangers. They approach me and ask for information or comment on something, and before I know it, they’re opening up about their problems. I take the chance to talk about God’s love, offer to pray, and say goodbye as if we’ve been friends for years. Often, I never see them again! Although brief, the time I had with the person was enough to show them love and God’s watchful eye. Passing on the message received from the Father!

“... freely you have received, freely give” (Mt 10:8 - ACL).

Here in Brazil, politicians will only stop and shake hands during election season as they need votes. But I, I have no need for votes. I have already been installed in the role. I am part of God’s select priesthood and the chosen people! My Lord has chosen me and called me to be a beacon of light. He led me from darkness to become a source of light!!

But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light (1 Pt 2:9 – ACL).

It can be said that everything happens for a reason. God holds all things in his hands. All things have been surrendered to Christ Jesus and we are united in Him, as He reigns over all!

“The Father loves the Son and has given all things into His hand” (Jhn 3:35 – ACL).

“And Jesus came and spoke to them, saying, “All authority has been given to Me in Heaven and on earth” (Mt 28:18 – ACL).