"When Love Stood Still: A Rose in My Darkest Hour"

On the author's Birthday 

Happy birthday our visionary and founder 

Penned by the founder of Purpose Beyond Limits, this tribute honors his beloved wife, Dorcas Mwila on his birthday today.

There was a time in my life when the world seemed wrapped in silence. I was a man wandering in the shadows of rejection, carrying deep wounds of discouragement, with no one believing in me, not even myself. I had faith in God, and that faith alone kept me standing through many storms. But the loneliness was real. My soul was a desert, dry, barren, and silent. Then came a rose that bloomed in the coldest season of my life. Her name is Dorcas, my wife.

My story too begins in the darkness, only to be awakened by a light so profound that it opened my eyes to see beauty, worth, and hope. "My eyes became larger, and the light could be seen." That’s what Dorcas did to me, she gave me sight beyond despair. She believed when no one else would. She loved when others turned away. She endured when many advised her to walk out.

When we began our journey together, people thought she had lost her mind. "Why would you be with him? He has nothing to offer you," they whispered. But Dorcas remained firm. And then came one of the lowest points in my life, a time when death was closer to me than breath. I was diagnosed with tuberculosis. My body began to rot from within. My scent, my skin, was a testimony of death looming close. Even elderly people who had seen much in life said, "He is going."

One woman I had preached to started praying loudly, crying to God, "Lord, the gift You are about to take, the gift You're about to bury..." Dorcas overheard her and was shaken. She asked the woman why she prayed that way. The woman responded, "You’re too young to understand. That man is dying. The smell you smell is death. There’s no hope."

But instead of walking away, my wife chose to kneel in tears. She said to God, "If I run from him now, I will be sending him to the grave. I will stand by him, no matter what happens."

That’s love. That’s strength. That’s the woman I married.

While many believers were quick to judge, few were moved to action. They asked why I was slimming. They made remarks. But none offered to pray, or even take me to the hospital. It was a lonely path, until Dorcas stepped in.

My sister, shocked by my appearance, cried like a child, not from judgment, but from deep love and pain. She held onto me and said, "Brother, what is really happening? We’ve just buried our two sisters and our father, are we now going to lose you too?" Her heart broke at the thought of another loss. I looked at her, and from a place of strength I didn’t know I still had, I said, "You will not lose me. I’m not going to die." It was my way of holding her up even when I was falling apart. It was my promise.

Annie, one of the first people we preached to and now Elijah’s wife, used to bring us water every day. At the time, I had to carry water with me constantly, just a few minutes without it, and I would faint. Annie stood with us faithfully, closing her ears to the voices of the world and choosing to support our mission.

Dorcas kept encouraging me, hiding her tears, and saying, "You’re just a little weak." Then a pastor told her, "Victor can only listen to you now. He is dying, and you, young woman, love him when he has nothing. You’re his only hope."

She came to me and said, "Tomorrow, we’re going to the hospital."

Elijah came back from work and walked instead of taking the bus, saving the last of his money to pay for my transport. Anthony and Dorcas supported me, and we went. I had no strength left. Dorcas didn’t even believe I would recover, but she never stopped hoping. One elderly woman at the hospital saw me and said, "You’ll be okay." Then she looked at Dorcas and added, "Encourage him. His life depends on you."

I was put on 60 injections and strong medications. Day by day, I returned to the clinic, a shadow of who I was. And slowly, against all odds, I began to recover. The doctors were shocked. The people who had spoken death were silenced. Those who had cried out to God, like my sister, Elijah, and Anthony, rejoiced. They saw me rise from the grave.

"There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea, You became the light on the dark side of me. Love remained a drug that's the high and not the pill, But did you know that when it snows, My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen."

These words are no longer just lyrics to me, they are my life. Dorcas, my wife, became my light on the dark side. She was the drug that brought healing, not intoxication. Her love made my eyes open. Her commitment gave me life again. She is my power, my pleasure, my pain. If she were to leave me, I would be destroyed, for she is woven into the very fabric of my soul.

On this birthday, I do not celebrate years. I celebrate her. I celebrate faith. I celebrate survival. I celebrate grace.

Dorcas, my wife, my rose, thank you for being a kiss on my broken soul. If love could be seen in action, it looked like the way you stood by me. If faithfulness could walk, it would move like you did, steadfast and unshaken. If sacrifice had hands, they were in yours when you held me through my worst. If endurance had a voice, it would speak like your quiet courage. Dorcas, your love reflected the kindness of God at a time when I had lost all strength. You were never my savior, but God used you to keep me from sinking. For that, I thank Him. And I thank you. On this birthday, I celebrate the gift God gave me in you, a partner, a friend, a woman who stood when others walked away.

To all who read this: Let love be fierce. Let commitment be unshaken. And may you too find(if not married yet) or if married, God make your wife your rose, someone who’ll shine light when all seems dark.