I Missed My Bus, She Got A Miracle!

Sunday 7:50am

“Please, how do I get to MFM^* from here?” I heard a voice ask timidly.

I turned back to see an elderly looking woman asking people randomly at the bus stop. Let us call her Madam B. She looked sixty-ish, had a small frame and was obviously Nigerian. I mean, which other nationality would be looking for MFM on the streets of London on a Sunday morning? She definitely had to be Nigerian, accent and all. She looked lost, confused, stressed and frustrated all at once. I checked my wristwatch to see if I had enough time to help her out. Just as I was contemplating my next course of action, my bus arrived. Too bad, I thought. She would have to sort herself out.

You see, I was running late for service that morning. As a choir member, I was supposed to be in church an hour before service starts. If I missed that bus, I was going to be so late that I would get to church while the service would be going on.

During weekends, TFL^** runs less frequent services, and the particular bus that drops me off at church runs every 30 minutes on Sundays. I had already missed it and was trying to get into this other bus with the aim of getting off at a stop where I could catch up with my missed bus. So, I had a lot at stake if I decided to attend to Madam B.

“Excuse me my daughter, do you know how I can get to MFM from here?” she finally asked me as I was about to board the bus. I took a deep breath as I left the queue to attend to her. I watched sadly as the bus filled up and drove by.

“Good morning ma” I greeted. “I don’t know where the MFM church is exactly, but I’m sure it is around here. Let me call someone who attends the church” I replied as I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts to get my London Mummy’s number.

I lived with her and her family, and she was a member of the particular MFM church this woman wanted to attend. I tried her lines and none went through. I kept trying and trying, and nothing! I called my sisters (her daughters) and none of them could effectively describe where the church was. We walked around the city center for a while trying to locate the church. We even asked passers-by, and no one seemed to have even heard about the church talk less of knowing where it was located. By this time, I had spent almost 30 minutes with her and it wasn’t looking like we were going to find the church at all. I was already very late and I needed to leave. The next bus was arriving soon and the thought of missing it to wait another 30 minutes was not an option.

“Ma, I have to go now. I don’t think we can find this church. Maybe you can follow me to my church instead” I suggested just as the thought popped into my head.

She looked sad as she shook her head in the negative that she didn’t want to follow me.

“You would enjoy it very much ma. In fact, we have a special guest coming in today as part of a special program we started on Friday. I am sure you would be blessed” I pushed with the aim of changing her mind. She still answered in the negative.

By then, I knew it was either I left her stranded by boarding the next bus or I convinced her to follow me to church. My heart couldn’t take the thought of leaving her all by herself. Knowing myself, guilt would eat me up if I dared. She had already told me how she couldn’t even retrace her steps back home (which was a long way back) and she had no phone nor money. This was her first time in London and the UK at large. It was also her first time of leaving where she was staying. She had come in from Nigeria to do Omugwuo. Her daughter had put to bed, so she came to take care of her grandchild and daughter. A solution came to my head real quick as I made a last effort to change her mind.

“You know what ma? Please follow me to church. It’s also a good church ma. In fact, it is an RCCG^*** church” I implored “I can’t leave you alone here by yourself ma. I would pay for your transport to church and back home” I promised. I had quickly figured out that perhaps the reason she wasn’t willing to follow me was because she didn’t have any money on her. “Besides ma, it is better you still attend church than not attend at all because we couldn’t find your church” I reasoned.

Reluctantly, she agreed as we boarded the bus that had just arrived. I had to pay for her transport and quickly made a call to a taxi service to pick us up about 5 stops away from where we were. The particular bus that was to take us to church was not going to arrive for another 25 minutes after we would have alighted, and I couldn’t bear being later than I already was.

Throughout the journey to church, I engaged this woman trying to encourage her and convince her that she had made the right decision to follow me to church. She simply smiled, nodded when she felt like and answered me in monosyllables. Thankfully, we got to church a few minutes to 9:00am just before service started. We split up with me going to sit where other choir members sat while she chose a seat close to the front of the auditorium. Since I had called earlier to explain why I was going to be very late, I was allowed to minister.

Sunday 10:10am

“Madam, yes you, please come” the invited guest pointed straight at the woman I had invited. To say I was shocked was an understatement. The pastor had been ministering in word for about 30 minutes when he called her out. The next 45 minutes was one of the most shocking, revealing, amazing and overwhelming experience I had ever witnessed.

Words of knowledge and wisdom came expressly through the pastor to Madam B. He went into great details of what she had been passing through. How she had prayed and prayed, given and given, shed tears in her closet, lost family members (had in fact lost her sister’s husband days just after she got to the UK), the miracle of her trip to the UK, how her finances had been struggling and so much more that I can’t remember. Everything was so accurate down to names, situations, and the times these things took place. In summary, the culmination of all she had gone through and was going through had led her into a deep financial rot. She absolutely needed a divine touch from God to be free of all the entanglements, deceits and oppression of the devil. I watched in awe as tears streamed down her face while she listened and corroborated what the Pastor was saying.

“Are you a member of this church?” the pastor suddenly asked. He could no longer continue with his message due to the torrents of revelation that was coming to him concerning her. He was trying to make sense of why God picked her out of a congregation of over 500 people and kept revealing so much about her. He felt perhaps she was one of the assembly faithful, perhaps her set time for light to shine through all her dark areas had come.

“No sir” she replied excitedly, practically hopping on her feet as she scanned the auditorium to point at me. “She was the one who brought me here sir. I did not want to follow her o. Haaa… thank her for me” she said bursting into fresh tears.

By that time, I felt like disappearing. I am usually comfortable in a crowd, but that day, for whatever reason, I couldn’t stand the scrutiny by everyone. I felt really embarrassed.

“Come here my sister” I heard him say as he called me out. Madam B was so excited that she couldn’t hold her words in. She requested to tell her story of how she got to church. The pastor gave her the microphone as she went into details explaining how I had insisted and convinced her to come that morning. She even went as far as saying how I had paid for her transport to church and how I promised to pay for her transport back home. She went on and on about how if I did not oblige her when she asked for directions, she would have been stranded with little hope of getting back home. The entire church was in awe by what she said. Even I, thought things through again and realized that God was indeed a master planner! He had somewhat orchestrated everything to culminate at that point. This revelation of how God used her chaos and confusion to bring her out of whatever the devil had planned for her changed the direction of service that day. The pastor could no longer continue with his sermon as everyone had to thank God and appreciate him for His mercies and loving kindness.

Offering Time

“After seeing what God has done in here today, I believe we need to take a step to meet this woman’s needs” my pastor (the host) said. “God wouldn’t have orchestrated something this grand to make this woman go back home the same way she came” he continued as he implored worshipers to give.

“Apart from giving to the church this morning, please I want us to raise an offering to give this woman” he said. “So if you are led to give, please come out and drop your free will offerings here. Nothing is too small. You can write a cheque, use your card or give in cash” he said.

From where I sat, I saw Madam B looking shocked. She obviously was not expecting that. The fact that she had been prayed for and light was shed on her path was enough for her, she must have thought. I watched in fascination as worshipers trooped in their numbers to drop their monetary gifts. This went on for about 10 minutes.

After Service

“And we have a total of £2,870.” I heard an usher say. We all sat back in shock as we looked at the money in front of us: in cash, cheques and card. The cash alone was over £2,400. Someone whistled quietly as we sat and looked on.

I had been told to follow the ushers as an extra hand to help count the money that was given to Madam B.

I came out of the room along with one of the Pastor’s and went straight to where Madam B was seated waiting for me. We handed her the cash and explained to her that we would give her the remaining money once it was cashed. We told her how much it was and asked her to confirm it. Right there she screamed out for joy as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Thank you. God will bless you all in Jesus name.” she kept repeating through her tears. She almost didn’t want to leave as she kept thanking everyone she saw. This went on till we convinced her that it was time to go.

We left church that afternoon in bubbling spirits. She chatted with me all through the journey. Surprisingly, I found out she knew my father and had attended my church in Ibadan, Nigeria years earlier. I called her daughter, got directions to her house led her home safely.

That was indeed a Sunday I can never forget in a hurry.

I shared this true life story to encourage you that God has not forgotten your labor of love. Your clouds are becoming full and very soon, you would reap. Don’t let that challenge overwhelm you. Keep your focus on God and keep your trust in Him. Very soon, that which you desire would be yours, amen! 

Thanks for reading. 

 

*MFM – Mountain of Fire and Miracle is a church that was started in Nigeria.

**TFL – Transport For London 

***RCCG – The Redeemed Christian Church of God is a church that was started in Nigeria.

Omugwuo – an Igbo word to describe that period in life of a new mother when her own mother or very close relation (if her mother is no longer alive), stays with her for upwards of 3 to 5 months from the date of the birth of the child.