When Hope Seemed Lost: God Remembered Me

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TESTIMONY OF A WOMAN OF FAITH

“He gives the childless woman a family, making her a happy mother. Praise the Lord!” – Psalm 113:9 (NLT

At the age of 41, menopause was fast approaching, and I had spent 17 long years in marriage without a child. It was a journey marked by pain, disappointment, and seemingly endless waiting.

A Testimony of Restoration, Faith, and a Miracle Baby

My husband, a man of unwavering love and support, stood by me through it all. Together, we tried everything medical science had to offer — consultations, tests, treatments, and even inseminations — but none of it brought the joy we longed for.

When science failed, I turned to spirituality. I went from one native doctor to another, from spiritualists to herbalists, from burning candles at specific hours to making sacrifices and rituals. I drank bitter concoctions and followed strange instructions. But my womb remained closed.

I sought help from Malams and countless self-proclaimed prophets. Many prayed for me, some took our money, yet my story did not change. Month after month, year after year, I faced shame, reproach, and painful mockery — but through it all, my husband and I remained united, bound by love and hope.

Eventually, we began to explore the possibility of adoption. I was making plans to travel overseas when I was invited to a meeting hosted by Rev. Dr. Chigbundu. Honestly, I went reluctantly. My heart was tired. Deep inside, I questioned, “If nothing happened when I was younger, why now in my 40s?”

But God Had Other Plans.           

During the service, Rev. Chigbundu preached with a clarity that pierced my heart. It was as if he was describing my life. At the altar call, I went forward — not to ask for a child, but to surrender fully to Christ. I wasn’t seeking a miracle anymore. I just wanted peace. I wanted a new life.

And I received it.

The next day, I was ministered to again. During a service for those called into ministry, we were invited to come forward for anointing. When the man of God anointed my hands with oil and touched me, I felt an electric-like current pass through my body. I fell to the floor, and as I lay there, I felt something physically leave my lower abdomen through my legs. I couldn’t move for a few minutes, but soon I got up and went home — changed, though I didn’t yet know how deeply.

A month passed. I didn’t see my period, but I thought little of it — it had happened before. Two months later, my doctor confirmed the unthinkable: I was pregnant.

I was stunned. Could it really be? Was this a dream?

But it was real. My baby was developing. There were no rituals, no sacrifices, no burning candles — just one touch after I gave my life to Jesus. That single moment of surrender brought the miracle I had waited 17 years for.

Six and a half months later, I gave birth prematurely — but the baby boy came out as though he had completed nine full months in the womb. Strong. Healthy. Whole. He never even needed to be placed in an incubator.

God did it.

After years of shame, sorrow, and tears, God turned my mourning into dancing. He wiped away every tear and gave me the gift of motherhood.

“Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy.” – Psalm 126:5 (KJV)

“He has made everything beautiful in its time.” – Ecclesiastes 3:11 (NIV)

To any woman reading this, to anyone still in their season of waiting: Don’t give up. Don’t lose faith. The same God who remembered Sarah and Hannah has not forgotten you. Surrender your heart to Him completely, and trust His perfect timing.

Praise the Lord — I am now a mother.

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