Healing Love

By sonja wood

Are YOU Suffering? Or do you know someone who is?

 

This book is a testimony of how God's Love heals.

 

How in times of utter distress

His Love teaches

How in moments of desperate loneliness

His Love comforts

How through sorrow and grief

His Love heals.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Oikos Publishing (Pty) Ltd.
• Release date: May 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393714453

sonja wood

Born in KwaZulu Natal, South Africa, Sonja Wood pioneered home education in South Africa in the 1990's. She is the co-founder of Oikos Family Ministries, est. 1989. She home educated her two children, both of whom had have cronic illnesses. She is a cancer survivor and has written a few autobiographies.

Book preview

Healing

Love

––––––––

By

Sonja Wood

Published by Oikos Publishing (Pty) Ltd.

www.oikosfamily.co.za

P.O.Box 732

Howick

3290

South Africa.

© Sonja Wood, 2003

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any

means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise,

without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

First published 2003

Revised 2020

ISBN 1-91985734-6

All Scripture references are taken from the King James or New

International Versions of the Bible.

––––––––

Printed in the Republic of South Africa by Oikos Publishing (Pty) Ltd.

Dedication

I dedicate this book to the Lord,

my parents, Ted and Yvonne McCurrach

my husband Greg, and our two children,

Missy and Jamie.

I give thanks to the Lord for making it possible for

me to publish this book and I thank all those who have

supported me through my life to this point.

Foreword

This is the story of the triumph of love, specifically a mother's love over the forces of professionalism, circumstance, common sense and everything that claims to be the truth and reality. The trouble with Sonja Wood is that she has stubbornly refused to face the facts.

Some of the consequences of her attitude, which many might describe as obsessive denial, is that she has suffered not only from watching her children endure intense ongoing trauma and pain, but also from the scarcely concealed rejection and criticism of those who regard her, either as someone living in a self created fantasy world, or alternatively someone who thinks she knows better than the medical authorities.

It seems at times she cannot win because she is viewed as either a paranoid hypochondriac who has invented her children's ailments or she is grossly irresponsible for not accepting medical advice regarding treatment for her dangerously ill daughter.

This is not so much a morbid story of prolonged physical suffering by young children as a tale of an exciting adventure by a family engaging with God and discovering His continuing faithfulness in answer to prayer. Jesus Christ is the central figure in this true life saga. At moments of crisis when difficult decisions have to be made the witness and leading of the Holy Spirit have prevailed over more conventional wisdom, with happy results.

This mother's burning love for her children and her passionate faith in God have carried her through storms which would have overwhelmed many if not most parents in similar circumstances. Readers will be greatly encouraged to persevere in hope when situations are desperate. The inescapable lesson to be learnt is that the mother knows what is best for her child, regardless of contrary opinions from whatever source.

Throughout this book runs a stream of exuberant joy that bursts through the wearying process of medical treatments. The love, support and commitment of the whole family have been crucial to the survival of each member. The adventure of home schooling would be challenge enough without the added pressure of dealing with this very rare and little understood disease. However, the excitements of each little victory and educational achievement essentially coupled with the development of character have gloriously transcended the gloom and darkness of the valley of pain.

It has been a humbling and indeed awesome experience to participate in a small way, albeit at a distance, in this journey. Readers of "Healing Love will inevitably receive a dynamic upsurge of hope in terms of the trials they may be facing in their own lives. Yes it is true ............ love conquers all".

––––––––

– Jonathan Leach

Senior Pastor – Sarepta Church

Preface

The reason I have written this book is simple - hopefully to support others who know suffering. I felt convicted and inspired by God to put pen to paper and share the gems He has given me over the years.

Gems which have helped me through many suffering situations. I have begun by sharing a little history for I feel it most relevant to paint the backdrop for the whole picture. It is my sincere hope that those who read this book are supported and encouraged to continue in strength and vision in whatever circumstance they may be in at present or in the future.

Contents

Healing Love

Dedication

Foreword

Preface

Chapter 1 My Mother

Chapter 2 My Daughter

Chapter 3 My Son

Chapter 4 My Husband

Chapter 5 word or Word

Chapter 6 Our Father Who Art in Heaven

Chapter 7 Your Will be Done

Chapter 8 The Greatest Commandment is Love

Conclusion

A Letter from Missy

Appendix

The Family Album

Tea

I am a large T-Pot

Wide and round

Through my spout

You hear me shout

WHO WANTS TEA

Then I hear

ME, ME, ME

So here I am,

so proud to be

Making a round of tea for everybody

Missy aged 8

Chapter 1

My Mother

On the day that my mother was due to deliver her baby, she stopped at my father's petrol station to inform him that ‘baby number four' was on its way. Here she met an uncle of hers who was visiting from Durban at that time. He promptly went to the cafe across the road and purchased a large tin of biscuits with a picture of a little girl with long, blonde hair on the lid. He proudly presented this to my mother and announced that this time she would be having a daughter. He then bid her farewell and left for Durban, which at that time was approximately a two-hour journey.

On his arrival at his home, his wife gladly greeted him with joyous news: Yvonne has just had a baby daughter! He stood in utter disbelief and replied. How can that be, I just left her at the Petrol Pumps! How was he to know that Yvonne had speedily delivered her first three babies - all sons. At that time, Gregory, Steven and Andrew were aged three, two and one. So the delivery of her fourth baby was even quicker. From that day, dear Uncle Ray affectionately called me 'Petrol Pumps’. I was otherwise mostly referred to by the name my parents chose for me, Sonja.

So this is the account of my arrival here on this earth. A small Hospital in Zululand on the 5 January 1962, being the only daughter of a family of boys. Believe this - for it is true - a little blonde-haired girl is what I grew up to be. Having strong Norwegian heritage, I did not let Uncle Ray down!

By the time I was three years old, my parents had moved down the coast from Zululand to Westville, inland from the city of Durban, Natal. It was in this rapidly expanding suburb that our family lived for the next thirty years.

My father then started a building and Real Estate business, which he developed throughout our time in Westville. He, to this day lives in Westville and is a well-admired and respected, God-fearing man of the community. My father, being of Scottish heritage, and my mother, of Norwegian, naturally supported strong home-making and thriftiness. My mother's occupation was home and family and specialising in that, she naturally passed her passion and skills onto her family. One of her skills was money management. It would simply not do to buy four school jerseys if you could knit them yourself, for the purchase price of one. She bought a knitting machine and so naturally I was taught to knit on this machine from a young age.

At the age of seven, my mother bought me my first sewing machine and sewing lessons began twice a week. For this, I truly was not grateful  at that time of my childhood. My friends were playing while I was sewing! Oh how I thank my mother today for not softening to the cries and complaints of my youth but rather staying firmly on the course which she knew was going to be of great value for my life. This reminds me of the baking and cooking lessons which were built into the weeks routine. At a young age I was confidently cooking full meals for my family of six. Saturday morning was baking day. By age twelve I was confident in baking biscuits, rusks, savoury and sweet pies, and a large variety of cakes. All this, of course, required dedication and commitment from my mother and a firm determination to not be swayed by the grumbles she heard from her little bleating ‘lambs' along the way.

Another aspect of this time and dedication was the supporting of her children in their schooling activities. I cannot recall a single school event that my parents did not attend, unlike so many parents who were not at such events as they had ‘other' commitments. When I swam in galas I came last in every race. My brother, on the other hand, who was, in my eyes, an absolute genius because he excelled in everything he did, came first. My mother would say, Well done, Gregory, you swam your very best and did so well today. And Sonja, you also swam your very best and did very well. Well done, my girl.

Because she was there to support and encourage her children, she observed opportunities to later address matters that she could help her children with. For example, if Gregory displayed a slight attitude of pride in receiving his first prize medal, she would find the right moment to use this observation to teach him the importance of humility. If she observed that I was downhearted after coming last, she would address this and teach me the value of not comparing my best with another's best. If I knew I had not given my absolute best, I had better be sure that the very next opportunity I had before me, I had better do all to give my utmost. How is it possible for a mother to teach her children lessons, far deeper than the experience of swimming in a school gala, had she not been there to give her love, time and commitment to witness these fleeting expressions of pride and sorrow, on the faces of her children? It is the love of God given to the parents, which makes it possible for a mother to be so closely attentive to the hearts of her children.

I recall this now and remember how I sometimes disliked the fact that my mother was always encouraging us to give our utmost. Once we had given our utmost, she would show us that we could improve on that by aiming to raise our own standard and in so doing we would constantly be improving our level of utmost. I remember being really angry with her for this and even believing that she was being unfair, harsh and uncaring, especially when I believed that I had just given my absolute best. This, of course, was my immaturity at the time, for now I am so