When I was about 14 or so I contracted TB and was admitted to an isolation hospital. One day I started coughing up blood quite profusely.
I had watched in our general ward how those patients who had hemorrhages almost always ended up being carried out on a stretcher to the mortuary.
I recall quite clearly going to the restroom one morning during this hemorrhaging spell and coughing up blood. As I sat there, I said: "God if I’m going to die, that’s okay; if not, that’s okay too."
I can’t explain it adequately but a wonderful calm descended over me and it was as if God was assuring me, what I don’t know.
This event, which occured sometime in 1947-48, might have been the beginning of this trusting relationship. Much, much later I learned from Archbishop Trevor Huddleston, who at the time was a priest in Sophiatown, and who used to visit me regularly in hospital and was an enormous influence on me, that the doctors had told him his young friend--me--was dying. So every moment thereafter has been a bonus for me!
I think I learned then to trust God implicitly.
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