In 1984, after several years of ill health, I was told by a respected gynaecologist that my only hope of regaining full health was to undergo a hysterectomy. Since I was only twenty-eight years old, had been married for just three years, and had no children, I was devastated. But subsequent years of pain and discomfort, coupled with respect for the advice and intention of the doctor, led me to consent to the operation.
Afterwards I soon felt much improved physically, but my mental state remained unhappy. I became swamped with depression and feelings of guilt and inadequacy. Nothing could console me. When I discovered some other symptoms related to the same problem, and had undergone further treatment, another consultant finally told me that the reason for the pain was unknown, and that nothing more could be done for me. I wasn't convinced. I became unhappier and prayed to die.
One night, in a most despondent mood, I began to search the house for an old Bible I had once seen. I found it and opened it at random, asking God, if He did exist, to talk to me through what I read. I opened at Isaiah 54:1 and read, "Sing, O barren, thou that didst not bear; break forth into singing, and cry aloud, thou that didst not travail with child." Here was God answering my prayers. Here was proof. He knew me, heard me, loved me! From that moment, I was changed. I had realised God's actual and present existence and I wanted to know more.
