Faith Unfolded

When I think back to the day I landed in the United States, I still remember the weight of that twenty‑dollar tucked in my purse. Just twenty dollars not twenty thousand. That was all I had.

I came on faith alone. No scholarship, no savings. Only the belief that God Himself had whispered this journey into existence. His voice had been clear: Go. So I did.

When I registered for classes, reality began to settle in. Tuition was high and everything around me screamed impossibility. Still, I decided to try.

Every day, I went from office to office asking professors if there were any graduate assistantship positions available. One by one, the doors closed with polite refusals. After several days of hearing no, something in me began to shift. Instead of complaining, I whispered to myself, It is what it is with the Lord.

That became my anchor.

Morning and night, at 6 a.m., 12 noon, 6 p.m., and midnight, I prayed. I didn’t just pray I reminded God of His word, repeating it like poetry until my heart caught fire. “You said you will never leave me nor forsake me” (Deuteronomy 31:6). “You parted the Red Sea for the children of Israel; surely you can open one for me” (Exodus 14:21).

Some nights, fear crept in quietly. I asked myself, what will happen if I don’t get a scholarship? But the Lord silenced that voice. He replaced what if with See, I am doing a new thing; do you not perceive it? (Isaiah 43:19).

It wasn’t just comfort it was direction. Later, I felt Him speak again: “I will send an angel before you to guide you and bring you to the place I have prepared for you” (Exodus 23:20).

And so, I waited not idly, but with expectation.

A week before classes began, I walked across campus, knocking on doors again, introducing myself, asking if there were any openings. Monday and Tuesday passed with the same answers: No, sorry, not at the moment.

Then came Wednesday. It was raining. I remember holding my umbrella, my heart heavy, whispering a prayer as I walked: Lord, You know where I come from. My family back in Botswana doesn’t even have forty dollars right now. If You don’t make a way, who will?

In the middle of that prayer, I heard a voice gentle but certain “Search for the School of Health Promotion.” I pulled out my phone but only found the School of Health Sciences, fifteen minutes away. I was like I will go tomorrow because it raining.

As I turned to go home, the same voice came again. “Sego, go.”

I paused. Lord, it’s raining.

But then, louder this time, “Sego, go.”

So I obeyed.

The rain soaked my shoes as I walked, but something in me knew this was holy ground the kind of obedience that only faith understands. When I arrived, I introduced myself to the administrative assistant and asked if there were any assistantship opportunities.

Right in that moment, a man stepped out of an office and said, “Thank you for showing up. I’ve been looking for someone like you.”

His words seemed to echo. I smiled through disbelief. He introduced himself, asked me to return the next day for an interview, and that was that.

That afternoon, I thanked God as if the job were already mine.

The next day during the interview, he asked about my home country and how I was adjusting to the U.S. Then he told me, calmly, “You’ll work twenty hours a week assisting faculty members with anything they might need help for. Congratulations, you’re hired.”

I walked out of his office trembling a mixture of joy and awe. Outside, the air felt different. I whispered, “God, why now?”

And His answer came softly: “Sego, you were applying for the wrong positions. The right one had your name on it. That’s why you got those twenty‑six rejections.”

That moment changed me. It wasn’t just about getting the job — it was about realizing that faith is not wishful thinking. It’s trust in a God who orchestrates every detail when our resources, strength, and logic fail.

That twenty‑dollars became a testimony a symbol of what happens when faith pays the bill that money cannot.

Now, every time I face uncertainty, I remember that day in the rain, God’s voice cutting through the noise: “Sego, go.”

I went and He met me there.

You too can trust Him.

–Segolame Lebogang_