We had two days left before we would have had nowhere to go. I remember sitting on the floor of that small flat in Windhoek, out of options, out of favors to ask, and out of pride too — I had asked everyone I knew. That night I prayed the most honest prayer of my life. I did not ask for a miracle. I just asked God to not let us be forgotten. The next morning, a woman from church I had met only once called to say she felt she needed to check on us. She did not know about the eviction. But God had already told her something we hadn't said out loud. By the following afternoon, the rent was covered. I still don't fully understand how it all lined up so precisely. I just know it wasn't luck.
