Sunday, June 30, 2002 4:19 PM
A story about fish
This testimony comes from South Africa.
My fish were a symbol of hope, continuity and conservation to me. Conservation because they told the story of some accumulation in an episode that felt fraught with loss and wasted effort.
They were all that I had left of a business that had failed, failed in spite of our success. The loss of the business was not a loss of livelihood, but a loss of pride and loss in terms of the feeling of accomplishment that only comes with back breaking hard work, dedication and perseverance.
In December 2001, after much legal bargaining and haranguing, we were forced to concede that the five year contract which was the livelihood for 12 personnel members, and hundreds of other health workers, was at an end. The difficult part to accept was that the decision had been taken by top officials in a different country, based on a liability to their 1500 workers, that they needed to get out of.
We were forced to retrench our personnel, a difficult decision. On December 20 2001, on the day the dreadful game of chess between our company, of whom my husband and I are directors, and their company continued, we took our 12 year old spaniel dog (Mischa) to the vet.
My husband and I have no children. Mischa, as the only other breathing being in the house, was like our child and went everywhere with us. We doted on her. It was the most agonizing thing to hold her in my arms whilst the vet ended her life. Mischa had cancer.
We were inconsolable. No one understood.
December 24 2001, we had an enormous falling out with my father and mother. A misunderstanding that we find inconceivable to this day. They decided not to come for Christmas celebrations anymore. My husband and I were alone. The house quiet, except for tears.
One day- whilst crying about Mischa again – I heard distinct words: “Sy’s by My”. Translated from Afrikaans, this is: “She is with Me”. I was sure I was imagining it – anyway it was just a dog – why would a dog be in heaven with God? It was not the first time I had heard words though – and it stayed with me.
My husband took me to a bookstore – he knew that reading would help to distract me. I took the book “Conversations from God” from the shelf and felt that I had to buy it and read it.
I finished it quickly. It was also about receiving messages from God, but also theological explanations. It made sense to my logical mind – I am a Computer programmer by occupation. The only problem I had with it was that it troubled me deeply. It felt wrong. I had a deep felt need to discuss the book with others, and I did, but still was troubled.
We wrapped up our business – the two of us working between Christmas and New year, in order to fulfil our obligation to the contract. During the first week in January the same contract was renewed for a further five months – until end of May 2002. Praise the Lord. We were able to re-employ all the people we had retrenched the month before.
In February, I heard (pure, pure chance, but that is another story) John Robbie on Radio 702, talking to Vassula. I was moved to find out where she was speaking on the Saturday, and after many phone calls, eventually found out.
I attended the meeting in the sweltering heat at a Catholic school. While Vassula was speaking, it started to rain unexpectedly, cooling the hall, enabling all to concentrate on what she was saying. I was moved, felt God’s presence, but was unsure. I am an Afrikaans South African – everything about the Catholic church is often spoken of as “from the devil”. I bought books and video’s of Vassula’s messages which I am still watching and reading.
What I got from Vassula, is certainly not conversion to Catholicism, but a sense of peace and also answers about the “Conversations with God” book that had been troubling me. I wish not to force my opinion on anyone, but I, personally, am convinced that what had troubled me about the book had been what Vassula was saying about theologians intellectualising God. Moving away from Jesus and any personal relationship with him. Also, that perhaps God had/is speaking to me – I am just not listening.
End of May the contract was completed, and we packed up everything. All but two of the staff members had found alternate employment in the meantime – another reason for praise to God. It was difficult, however, as these employees had become like family members.
On the Monday May 27th ,at 16:00 we took the Koi fish that we had been raising since the start of the business 2 years earlier, to our home where we had prepared a small pond for them outside. We had debated for weeks whether we should take them, or donate them to someone. I had insisted that they represented all that we had left of our business. We returned to the office to do a payment run at 16:15.
When we returned home at 19:00, it was already dark. We took a flashlight to see how the fish were doing. Imagine the shock when only one fish was left in the pond. Eventually, my husband found them
- stone dead lying on the lawn – they had jumped out of the pond.
I cried and felt devastated – It was such an unnecessary waste – one that could have been prevented if we hadn’t gone back to the office. We went inside the house, preparing a salt solution for the remaining fish.
Upon returning to the pond thirty minutes later, my husband decided to put the dead fish back into the pond. I tried to stop him as I felt that they would probably infect the water for the one remaining fish. As I lighted on one of the fish, its eye had already congealed, and was running probably one centimetre out on the grass. In the pond they lay on their sides on the bottom – my fish, the largest and oldest fish – a pitch black one, was a strange yellow colour.
I was inconsolable. I read Vassula’s messages before praying. My prayers that night, were not ones of which I am proud, but God heard my prayers that night. I asked God, that if he was my father, why had he punished me all my life. I was born with a deformity, my mother had had a heart attack at my wedding, I had no children, the loss of Mischa, my family relations was not what I wanted them to be, and through all this I had loved the Lord and tried to be a good person. I bargained, as many do when bereaved, but did it in almost a contemptuous way. “Lord, if you are my father and love me, make my black fish live again. If You do, I’ll never doubt You and Your supremacy again”.
In the morning, my husband came running. All the fish, but one was alive. Even the black one – even the one who’s eye I had seen oozing out. All were healthy and unharmed.
They watch me with God’s eyes – still, quiet, waiting for my next move. I am overcome.
I will keep my promise and never doubt again. I wait for the Lord to use my life.
Whoever reads this, it is your choice to believe it or not. I re-iterate that I have lived with “logic” all my life and career. I would not have believed this story had anyone else told it to me. Anyone who raised Koi fish will tell you – they go into shock and die for no apparent reason. These were out of the water for a couple of hours. I have written this account for two reasons: for myself, so I may never forget, and so that someone else may read this and realise: Miracles still happen, we just often write off experiences to co-incidence or even deceits.
The fish survived and still flourish.
