I lay in a nice warm bed last night and even though I haven’t had a banana for a while, I felt fine.

Then suddenly the muscles in my right leg tightened and would not relax. Bed cramp! How it makes one scream! I did what I assume everybody does in this situation – I sat bolt upright as quick as lightening and grabbed my calf.

No matter how much I tried to flex my foot towards me to ease the tightness, the cramp would not subside. It was as if my leg was caught in a vice that was being wound up tighter and tighter.

My husband Anwar,  tried to help the best he could, but nothing was working. Childbirth is bad but nothing in comparison to this, unless I have a short memory.

The cramp would stop then start again in 10 second waves and each time, it felt like my sinews were being ripped apart.

I sat there with my eyes shut, head tilted back and just screamed.

After what seemed like forever, although it was literally 6 minutes, the pain wore off. But you know that feeling – it felt like in any second, the muscles would tense up again and the whole excruciating process would begin again.

Despite panicky prayer, I was terrified and my body went into shock. I felt cold and the other muscles began to twitch randomly. Anwar tried to calm me down and I lay back with my hands still around my curled up toes. I didn’t dare release them. With every tense twitch, I feared it would trigger another attack, but there was nothing I could do but lay still and try to relax.

Then it hit me. This pain which rendered me scared and breathless, lasted less than half an hour. Yet Jesus suffered the most agonising pain for 3 hours on the cross and many hours before that; having his body literally ripped to shreds. The bible says he was so badly beaten he was unrecognisable.

How could anyone have endured such acute pain for so long? I couldn’t have lasted another 5 minutes and had I suffered a relapse, I would have been asking for an ambulance so I could be given a quick muscle relaxing injection.

The reality of the love of Jesus slapped me in the face once again. He knew what he would go through before the event yet willingly gave up his life so that I now could be free.

I’m in awe. I cannot say much more. It renders me speechless.

Thank you Jesus for the unspeakable torture you went through for me. How could I fear? How could I be depressed? How could I be discouraged? If he did that for me, he certainly loves me and wants to help me through ALL my life’s problems. He’s more than able and he’s more than willing.

The crucifixion proved it.