Watching two patients pass away in terror, and another depart in peace, she asked: “What if there really is life after death?”

Growing up in South Africa, I had wanted to be a policewoman. But my Daddy firmly said no.

So I chose the next best thing: Nursing.

I had grown up in a violent home, often stepping in to protect my mother from my father.

Out of that grew a deep compassion for the vulnerable, the underdog, those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

Rev Suzette would later go full-time into serving God – and lead her Daddy to Jesus. He passed away five months after that.

Nursing became my whole life. I poured myself into caring for the sick, the abused, the broken, the hurting.

As a very determined, straightforward, down to earth person, I worked myself up very fast in nursing.

The junior nurse who wouldn’t stop

A junior nurse I worked with thought to herself: “If Sister Hattingh could start serving God the way she served in nursing, she would be a very dedicated Christian.”

So she started talking to me about Jesus.

I was highly irritated because I considered myself religious – I went to church (never mind that we were half sleeping through the service). But I was far from having a relationship with God.

As she prayed for me, God started orchestrating things into my life that would take me to the edge and call out to Him.

The fear of the dying

It was custom at that time for a senior Sister to sit by the bedside of a dying patient.

I remember dripping water into the mouth of one man who was very weak. He was minutes away from dying when he suddenly sat up straight up in bed, his eyes as big as saucers.

He cried: “I see the living God on His throne, and I’m lost!” That was his last breath.

Another man, also near death, anxiously described going into a pit – feet first, followed by his body.

Finally, he cried: “My head is in the pit!” And then he was gone.

I didn’t have a framework for what I was hearing. I didn’t know then that the Bible talked about these things.

If you’ve worked in the Emergency Room like I had, you deal with all kinds of accidents and traumas. You move on.

But the fear of these two dying men really shook me.

The peace of heaven

Then a woman with terminal cancer was admitted to hospital. I knew her from my father’s work, and I knew what kind of life she had lived before.

She was the most difficult patient – always screaming and cursing at my nurses.

So I walked up to her and said: “Mrs X, if you want to scream and shout, you shout at me. I’m in charge here. But you don’t shout at my nurses.”

So she did. I became the target of her rage.

She was transferred to another hospital, but when she came back, she was totally changed.

She was calm. She couldn’t thank us enough. She had made peace with God.

But I was not impressed – because now I had her and the junior nurse talking to me about Jesus.

Every time Mrs X saw me, she said: “Sister Hattingh, you must give your life to Jesus.”

She was preaching to me about Jesus all the time.

I was on duty during the final moments of her life.

Her family was there, but somehow, she focused on me. It must have been God who orchestrated this.

Mrs X said: “Oh, Sister Hattingh, do you see these people with white clothes?”

I saw nothing.

The woman went on to describe what she was seeing: “Oh, look at the colours. Look at the sea of glass.”

Later, I found these same descriptions of heaven in the Bible.

The atmosphere in the ward was peaceful – I now know it was the presence of God.

Then Mrs X looked out of the window and said: “Look, Sister! They’ve come to fetch me!” And she was gone.

I ran out of the ward shaking like a leaf. My nurses thought I was emotional because I knew her.

But no – it was because I couldn’t work out what I had just seen.

The dream that shook me

Three such experiences – so close together – left me unsettled. I began asking: What if God is real? What if there really is life after death?

Then came the dream. After a night shift, I collapsed into my bed.

In my dream, I heard the sound of trumpets and saw people going into the sky. (1 Corinthians 15:52)

I was among them … until I got stuck on the ceiling.

In my dream, I screamed: “It’s the end! It’s the end! And I am lost!”

I woke up thinking it was a nightmare. But I put on my uniform and went to work, as though nothing was wrong.

(Later, I would learn that the dream showed what we understand as the coming of the Lord, and what I heard was the sound of a shofar.)

The same dream happened two more times – until I was so afraid of going to bed.

Desperate and frustrated, I cried out: “God, if you are who these freaks say you are, do something in my life.”

By “freaks”, I was referring to the junior nurse and Mrs X.

God knew I wouldn’t listen to a preacher or open my heart in church. So He used my work, the junior nurse, my patients – what I couldn’t ignore – to take me to the edge and cry out to Him.

That day, February 14, 1977, He saved my soul.

“What did you do?”

Three months later, the junior nurse and her father prayed for me. And I experienced complete healing of my right arm that had been shredded in a farm accident when I was 10. (Read about it here.)

That moment convinced me that God isn’t distant. He is real. And He can heal.

Having experienced God for the first time, I wanted to pray for every patient and have them experience a miracle.

Rev Suzette would eventually go on to pray for the sick at packed healing rallies around the world.

Once, an 18-year-old girl was in much pain after surgery. But the Sister with the key to pain medication was not immediately available. What could I do?

I said to the girl: “I only know one thing – I’m going to pray for you.” As I did, the pain was instantly gone.

The girl looked at me, wide-eyed: “What did you do?”

I said: “I asked Jesus.”

That was the first time I prayed for a miracle, and I saw the pain disappear.

From then on, I was all in.

Rev Suzette Hattingh asked attendees at the recent HEALSG 2025 rally in Singapore to put their hands on afflicted parts of their bodies as she prayed for healing in Jesus’ name. Photo by Gemma Koh.

Overtaking my passion for nursing

Nursing was my god. I had poured my whole life into it.

If I woke up bored on my day off, I would put on my uniform and go to the hospital to see who needed help.

If I was off duty and the doctors needed an experienced nurse, they would call me.

I lived and breathed nursing. It was my everything.

Standerton Hospital where Rev Suzette came after the farm accident at age 10 and where she subsequently worked as a nurse.

But slowly, the passion for God began to overtake my passion for nursing. That, to me, was such a clear sign that God was at work.

I started leaving Gospel tracts everywhere in the hospital. I would have preached to a telephone pole if necessary – I was so passionate and on fire for God.

Eventually the matron called me in.

She said: “Sister Hattingh, you are one of our most senior nurses. But you cannot just pray and preach to every patient. Some have complained.”

She had a point. I had a lot of zeal, but not much wisdom or common sense.

“Yes, Sister Hattingh, you can pray for me now. Then go.”

Then she said: “If you carry on like this, we will have to let you go.” It was understandable.

I looked at her and replied: “Matron, I heard that you came out of hospital with cancer. May I pray for you?”

She paused, then said: “Yes, Sister Hattingh, you can pray for me now. Then go.”

“Do the work of an evangelist”

Eight months after my encounter with God, I went to my first youth camp.

The speaker said: “God speaks to us about what He wants for our future.”

I believed this with a childlike faith and prayed on a hill: “Okay God, if you speak to me, tell me what you want me to do.”

I had finished training as a registered nurse and midwife, so I asked God: “Should I go to Springs or to Cape Town to continue my theatre training? You choose.”

Rev Suzette speaking at the recent HEALSG 2025 in Singapore. Photo by Gemma Koh.

I didn’t know any better at the time (and I don’t recommend this), but I opened my Bible randomly.

My eyes landed on a verse: “Fulfil your calling and do the work of an evangelist.”(2 Timothy 4:5)

I didn’t even know what an evangelist was. In my mind, it meant someone who worked full-time for God.

And just like that, I said “yes”. No long weeks of prayer. No seeking advice.

God spoke, and I responded.

Thousands gathered at Arena@EXPO in Singapore to receive a message and prayer from Rev Suzette during HEALSG 2025. Photo courtesy of HEALSG.

It’s still how I live today. When He speaks, I go. No questions asked.

That’s how He’s been able to send me to the ends of the earth, to the most unlikely places, doing things most would never dream of attempting.

When I rejoined the group and shared what God had said, the others – long-time Christians – laughed.

I was just a baby Christian.

They said: “You’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

But for me, the decision was made.

Jumping for joy. This attendee, who had heel spurs for a few months, experienced freedom from pain after prayer at HEALSG 2025. Photo courtesy of HEALSG.

This story first appeared on storiesofhope.sg.

READ PART 1 OF SUZETTE’S STORY HERE:

At age 10, Suzette Hattingh’s arm was shredded in a farm accident. She not only survived, but was fully healed at 23

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