Category: STORIES



NB: This story is purely fictional and a result of my active imaginations. It is unrelated to any person dead or alive; any such resemblance is purely coincidental.

Yvonne is a virtuous young woman from a good Christian home. Her parents, both dedicated Christians raised her with the very tenets of the Religion. Jesus was so important to her that nothing compared to her love for him. When she became friends with William Wilson, she was unprepared for the love that developed between them. He was a staunch Atheist just as convinced in his believes as she was. They become inseparable; their believes the only obstacle. When William asked her to marry him, Yvonne’s joy knew no bounds. Since none of them wanted to abandon their believes, they decided to each stick to their own separate believes. They planned to fight against their parents’ disapproval to get married. But in the night season when Yvonne’s father in heaven registered his disapproval in a convicting dream, she snaps back to reality. With a broken heart, she beseeches God to step into her heart. He alone can take her love for William out of her heart and return her back to her first love.


Rescue My Heart Lord,

Unlock its captivity from the grips of love. My heart has a mind of its own and is glued to William. What do I do, oh you who first loved me? If I could command my heart to stop loving him, believe me I would. But I do not have such power. You alone wield such power. You are the one who has the heart of a king in your hands and turns it in the direction you desire. My heart is in your hands oh lord; turn it back to you.

Why did you look on unconcerned as I fell deeper in love with him? I am neck deep and only your strong hand can prevent me from drowning. I love him and can’t stop thinking about him but I love you more. I miss him anytime he is away from me but I miss you more. If he leaves me I feel I will die but if you leave me, my death will be eternal.

People say love is blind but I must confess I went into this relationship with my eyes wide open. Why can’t it work when he is so good to me? Why can’t it work when my heart beats for him? Why can’t it work when you created us both in your own image? The other day when he tried to convince me to convert to his theories, I felt so much fear. If I love him so much, why is it so difficult to forsake Jesus and yield to his beliefs? It is because of you oh Lord.

The mere thought of Jesus not being a part of my life is more than I can take. What is life on earth without my Jesus? What is true love without his Love? What is the ultimate sacrifice without his sacrifice? Help me God! My heart is breaking. I love him very much but I do love you more.

If anyone told me that I would one-day attempt to disobey you like this, I would never have believed it. Now I realize I am also to blame. I should have drawn the line when he told me he was an Atheist, but he mesmerized me with his charm. He is such a gentleman, so intelligent and treats me with respect. He makes me laugh and the way he is responsible tags at my heartstrings.  His eyes so bright and beautiful stare down my soul and I melt before him.

How I wish he could convert to become a Christian. You know I have tried and prayed to you for this but his heart is steadfast in his belief and so is mine. I would have loved to walk down the aisle with him by my side. I wish I could go to church service with him and read your word with him. Oh, how I wish!

If your word did not say that no one would enter your Kingdom except through your son Jesus Christ, I would gladly sway to his side to be his bride. But I can’t risk eternity for pleasures in this passing world. I can’t sacrifice my love for you for a love that will soon fade.

I thought you would be happy with my decision to continue serving you even when i marry him. If he can stay at home while I attend church service, why can’t it work? I have heard of such stories that have worked perfectly for the couple. A fifty- fifty situation where no one loses.  Why is mine different? Why can’t I eat my cake and have it?

I know your word says I should not be unequally yoked with unbelievers, but I know you love him as much as you love me. The mere thought of him missing eternity is heartbreaking and I planned to convince him to convert to Christianity after we got married.

I know this is risky as he may be unchanging in his stance. I have heard him talk about his philosophies  with so much passion. If his love for me could not change his mind, then how am I sure that once we get married he will change? After all, he sees nothing wrong with his stance. He has not persuaded me to leave my religion either.

No one in his family is a Christian and even his eldest brother’s wife who used to be a Christian is now an Atheist. I will never forget what she told me the day I visited her. I did not even know she was a Christian some time ago. When she told me she had gone into the marriage to try to convert her husband but rather ended up being converted, I was shocked.

“Never attempt to change someone, either you accept them the way they are or you don’t”. These words from a woman who used to be in my position have never left my mind but I stubbornly continued in love. Forgive me lord; I have been selfish. Never have I thought of the effect all this will have on my children if I go ahead. Yesterday’s dream has taken me out of fantasy land into the world of reality.

In the dream, the two boys you gave me as children were so handsome. How they look like William! When I saw my only daughter and last child, it was as if I was looking at myself in the mirror. What a delight it will be to behold my children one day. However, my joy was short lived when I saw one of my boys dressed normally and the other as a priest.

I thought they were happy until I heard their conversation. Arguments of whose belief was better angrily rang through the room. They looked at each other with disdain as each of them justified their stance. Philosophy and the bible clashed as the two of them battled it out before their little sister who looked on in confusion with tear stained eyes.

As I stepped in to calm the situation, my second son Eric an Atheist accused me of being on his elder brother Joseph’s side because he was a Christian. I felt my heart break for I loved them equally even though I wished they were both Christians. When their father William also stepped in, Joseph accused him of loving Eric more due to his religious stance.

I saw the hurt in William’s eyes at the accusation of his son but knew he secretly wished both his sons were Atheists. He looked at me and smiled sadly, love for me still displayed in his eyes. We advised them to be tolerant of each others views and left hand in hand oblivious to the fact that their argument heatedly continued when we were out of earshot.

What broke my heart was my daughter who had dressed promiscuously unashamed as she challenged the authority of her elder brothers. Both wanted to win her to their side but were unsuccessful. She had decided to be a non- practicing Muslim because she did not want to be in the midst of the controversy.

Then I saw Joseph and myself join hands to the right side, Eric and William to the left; hands held. My precious Ingrid was in the middle as we all tried to push her towards our direction. She stood strong unwilling to give up until we pulled so strongly she was torn in two. My daughter fell dead right before our eyes as we looked on in dismay.

My sons wept in grief as William and I still looked on as if in a trance. Then Eric took a knife from his pocket and stabbed his father to death accusing him of marrying a Christian. He too stabbed himself after that and lay dead beside Ingrid and William. Joseph grabbed me as if another spirit had possessed him and looked me in the eyes saying; “I blame you for all this, you have sacrificed your children for your selfish love, love is not selfish. I am disappointed in you.” He then picked Eric’s knife and stabbed me to death with tears in his eyes after which he killed himself.

Then I saw you seated upon the throne of judgment ready to declare where each of us would spend eternity. When Ingrid came before you, you banished her from your presence as I cried inconsolably. She looked at you and said, “It’s not my fault, my mother determined my destination even before I was born.” I was so broken as your angels threw her into the pit of fire her screams piercing my heart.

When Eric came before you, you banished him also from your presence declaring he did not accept Jesus. He also turned to me and said, “Mummy, this is where your selfishness has landed me.” As the angels took him away to the fire of doom, I thought I had died all over again. All this time your eyes never left me from the throne as you looked at me with cold eyes.

Then Joseph came before you and my body began to shake as you cast him too aside calling for him to be sent into the lake of fire. He also turned to me and said “Mummy,   you turned me into a murderer, now here I am.” I threw myself to the floor and wept without tears for all my tears had fallen.

When William came before you, the judgment was the same but when he turned to look at me, what he said was more hurtful than a sharp knife pierced through my heart. “I loved you with all my heart, but marrying you is the worse decision of my life. I would have preferred to see myself in hell fire than the children we had together. Love is good but losing loved ones through our selfish choices is unforgivable.

 It was my turn to stand before you and I saw your eyes soften as you spoke. “I loved you with my life. I paid the price for your sins with the blood of my son upon the cross. You knew me but disobeyed me. Did I not tell you it is better to enter my kingdom with a missing part rather than missing it entirely? You chose to save your heart and did not wait for me to bring you someone equally yoked. Your children are all here because of you. You chose to save yourself but lost it all,” you said.

Your eyes then turned cold again as if you were not the one who had just spoke. As the angels carried me towards hell fire, I heard myself screaming, “no, no, I will wait upon you! I will wait upon you!” But it was too late. As they threw me into the fire, what I saw shook me more. William, Eric, Joseph and Ingrid all pointed accusation fingers at me blaming me for their suffering.

Then all those in hell joined them as they chanted. “Bad mother, she sacrificed her children for her  love.” They approached me as if to rip me in two but then came the blinding light. Jesus came and grabbed me from their midst, hugged me and took me to safety. “I will never leave you nor forsake you, don’t leave me; Yvonne.” I smiled at him and told him how much I loved him “I love William, but I love you more.”

When I woke up from my dream, my bed was soaked with sweat and I knew I had narrowly escaped the heat of hell. God, thank you for saving me as you did. I never thought of the children I would have one day or what I would be putting them through. I can’t bear it. I will rather die than see my children perish because of me.

From today, I have taken a sharp curve back to obedience. No love for any man can compare to the love I have for you. Quickly bring me a man who equally believes in you who can love me beyond my pain to make me forget this forbidden love. I will not gamble with eternity.

Send my true love so we can pull together towards you. I now have the courage to tell William “I love you with all my heart, but I love Jesus more and will want my children to love him too.”

If he decides to convert, fine. If not, I will still love you more and wait upon your promise.  I will wait for a man who also loves you more so our children can freely love you. Thank you Jesus for saving me, but please banish this horrible dream from my mind for my heart still beats when I think about it. Yours in waiting to be equally yoked, Yvonne.



2 Cor 6:14-17

14 Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness? 15 What harmony is there between Christ and Belial? What does a believer have in common with an unbeliever? 16 What agreement is there between the temple of God and idols? For we are the temple of the living God. As God has said: “I will live with them and walk among them, and I will be their God, and they will be my people.”  17 “Therefore come out from them and be separate, says the Lord.



According to the story and above scripture, whom will you describe as an unbeliever?

Why does scripture admonish Christians to be unequally yoked with unbelievers?

Would you be willing to let go of the love you feel for someone in obedience to God?

Do you think it is wise to enter a relationship with someone with the hope of changing their believes?

Like the children in the story, do you prayerfully consider the effects your decisions have on your loved ones?

The above scripture does not encourage Christians to treat others with disdain, do you agree?




NB: This story is purely fictional and a result of my active imaginations. It is unrelated to any person dead or alive; any such resemblance is purely coincidental.

Amanda was single- handedly raised by her mother when her father died at the tender age of four. Her mother worked hard to ensure she had a good education and life’s basic comforts. Despite this, she fell into bad company when she entered the university. Lured by a group of friends who introduced her to a notorious pimp, her life took a turn for the worst. No more was she satisfied with the little her mother gave her. She became aware of the fact that with her graceful body, she could acquire more possessions for herself. Little did she know that she was gradually turning into something she had sworn never to become, a prostitute. By the time she realized where her greed had taken her, it was too late. After a year, she was afraid of leaving the group for fear of victimization. They threatened to expose her if she ever backed out. Furthermore, her shame prevented her from going home to her mother who had discovered her secret. Her mother begged her to return to the God who never left her. The beckoning of the Holy Spirit was becoming stronger by the day. An ugly encounter with her pimp was all the excuse she needed to run back to the place of security. Enough was enough, she stopped running from God and submitted to him. He was the only one who could turn her situation around.




My heart bleeds in response to its ache. My body is so used and tired; I feel like 55 instead of 25. How did I get here? How did I go so far from you? How did I allow myself to be used like this, shoving the love you have for me in your face? Have I proved to you that sending your son to die for my sake was in vain?

Do you look down at me with disgust and regret creating me after your own image? Oh, how lucky I am that when you sigh, it does not blow me away into the pit of hell. That is where I deserve to be. If I could get away with it, I would take my own life and risk heaven. But I know better even though my life is bitter.

I have tried coming back to you several times but my head hangs so low; I cannot lift it up to you. I am grateful that even with my head buried in the ground my words are audible to you oh mighty God. Save me from myself! I am tired just as my body is tired. I am tired of the whispered lies of love in my ears at night. My mind is filled with Lies from men who want nothing but a moment of pleasure.

I am tired of how my body has been invaded making me an open book for every man to read. I am tired of the rough hands that daily grasp my tender breasts. I am tired of the pain and the useless gains. I am tired of my guilt, which evades my conscience reminding me of who I have become.

I am tired of the looks of lust in the eyes of men old enough to be my father. I am tired of how they disregard my mind like junk when I attempt an intelligent conversation. I am tired of the looks of pity as people pass me by; I dread the thoughts they think of me. I am tired of turning my head in another direction to avoid the looks in peoples’ eyes when they see me by the roadside. I am tired of how they move further away as if afraid I will infect them with a dreadful disease just by coming close. Oh lord, I am weary!

My disregard for the church close to where I stand at night looking for clients tears at my soul. My crime is greater because I defile my body that is your holy temple as well as the church built in which to worship you. The beauty you endowed me with has condemned me; I could not use it for your glory. I have misused the wisdom you gave me and directed it into folly. Your mercy is all I seek; I can ask of nothing more. Even though I have more belongings, I am perishing with the weight of sin.

Because of me, innocent men have fallen prey to seduction leaving them as helpless victims. Many could not survive the temptation when I exposed my breasts and my private parts to them in the dark. I am always ready to extract their riches causing them misfortunes. When the catholic priest I was able to lure into my bed run out weeping, my power over him gave me no joy. His shame was enough to destroy my gain. My conscience is dead and no longer convicts me. When did the Holy Spirit depart from me depart? I searched and found him no more.

When did the clothes that covered my body become so easy to discard? Little by little, ignoring the promptings of the Holy Spirit, I took your mercy and forgiveness for granted. I have entangled myself in a web of sin. You alone can disentangle the web in which I find myself; I cannot come out of it unless you save me. Going deeper into sin was easier for me. I could not retrace my steps because I did not know how to stop.

Night after night as I changed like a chameleon afraid to be recognized, I fooled myself. I wore wigs of different colors and skirts too short announcing my immorality. Underneath my skirts are no underwear. My blouses are so tight I can hardly breathe; My Lipsticks bright and sparkling in the dark as I call out loudly to men. My makeup makes me look older, hiding the innocence beneath. I call out to men unashamedly to come and enjoy my body.

Who will continue to love me but you? Recently, I heard someone preach about how you accept people just as they are. That I don’t need to change to come to you. The thought of change puts fear in me because this is how I have learned to survive. With my body so soiled, can you indeed come to live in me again or did you never leave me? If I come to you right now, will you turn your back on me and rather open your arms to your beautiful virgins who glorify you with their bodies? I pray you reach out and welcome me like the lost sheep that I am.

When I reached out for the bible hidden in my suitcase, I was searching for evidence of your love. I had shoved the bible beneath my clothes for fear of its reminder. To make nonsense of the sacrifice you made for me with the life of your dear son is to reject your mercy. Without your Mercy which I am better dead than alive.

The words in the bible have comforted me and given me the strength to come to you today. However, deep within me I knew you were waiting for me to come to you. The condemnations in the eyes of the preachers who have attempted to turn me from my ways always leave me more ashamed. Did these preachers expect me to follow them to church when their hands pointed disgustedly at me from afar? What safety can I find in a place where the sinner’s sin is always brought up? I do not want some boasting pastors to use me in their sermons claiming to have rescued me from the depths of hell. You alone have the power to rescue me.

You have protected me even in this dangerous profession; how can I explain how I stay healthy regardless? I have escaped Dreadful venereal diseases like HIV and Gonorrhea which have infected even those with few sexual encounters. It is a surprise that you still protect me in my sinful profession. The other day when some of my colleagues pondered how they had been spared from these infections, they claimed it was luck, but I know better. You know the deep-rooted issues in our heart’s that cause us to go astray. Thus, you do not withhold your mercy and grace from us.

Many find themselves here for reasons more tangible than mine. I do not have any excuse for what I have become. I have a hardworking mother who has supported me all this while to make my life comfortable. I may not be as rich as I wanted but I am definitely not a church mouse. Mum’s salary has been enough for both of us since she refused to marry when daddy died. Her dedication to my spiritual growth should have taught me better. Wanting more has almost succeeded in killing me. Set me free! Set me free from this self- inflicted pain.

My poor mother; I wonder how she found out about my little secret. I need to get out of this so I can see her smile again. The day she confronted me I couldn’t lie because I was confounded at her discovery. I will never forget the tears she shed as she knelt before me, begging me to stop. I know I should have changed that day but I was too far-gone. I was too ashamed to look her in the eyes. The disappointment was too much. Remember my mother’s tears as I do and help me turn my evil ways around.

When the pimp told me last week that I was nothing but a piece of trash worth less than a penny, I knew the time had come. The time had come for me to stand up and say No! The time had come to run back to you because at least I am worth more than that to you. The time had come for me to cut off all reminders of the one dime human being I had become. The time had come to wipe the tears from my mother’s eyes; she had not ceased praying to recue me out of the hands of the evil one. The time had come!

Oh, how bold I was to look him squarely in the face as I rose elegantly to my full 6feet height. I know you gave me courage because suddenly all my fear was gone. The look of shock and fear in his eyes made me realize I was worth more than he made me feel. I wonder where the words came from as they tumbled down my lips. Where did I get the strength to slap his face? “I may be worthless to you but I was so important to the one who created me that he sent his only begotten son to die that I may live; to turn this penny to a jewel so refined that you cannot identify her again”. The way he paled before me as I uttered those words made me know I had destroyed his defenses. What a relief I felt as I walked away; it was over. Just like that!

I was setting myself free. I had made him more money than his other prostitutes had but he had used me to his advantage sensing my insatiable need for material possessions. He thought I had nowhere to turn. He did not know that I had a God I who had been waiting for me to turn to him; One who was ready to carry the heavy burden I had placed on my own shoulders. A burden I gladly lay down at your feet. Make me your jewel oh lord, your word stays true. Who can wipe away my sins and set me free? Only you! Who can cause a new beginning to come out of an ugly past? Only you! Past, yes past, I am determined not to turn back to that path that leads to death. If you will not condemn me with my past, I don’t care about what anyone else says.

I put behind me a world I ignorantly entered, lured by the pleasures of life. I am returning to you realizing there is nothing better out there beyond the borders of your love. No matter what people say about me, it is better to enter your kingdom with a tarnished reputation than to miss heaven. Reading the bible like a thirsty drunk calms my spirit and makes me surer of one thing. It is a lie that you will not accept me as I am. It is for people like me that you sent your son. Like Paul, you will use me to confound those who thought it was over for me. I will no longer bow down my head in shame. You have already carried my shame on the cross!

I am no more Amanda the prostitute; I am Amanda the worthless vessel in transition to becoming a vessel of honor. Amanda the apple of your eye; that is what the word says you call your children. Come back into my heart Jesus and drive away all that is not worthy of your holy temple. Come back and take your place where I have placed others above you. Come and be seated in the comfort of my heart where you can heal all that is wrong within me for I am coming home again. Like the prodigal son, I have no more fears. You will give me your oil of gladness in your presence where there is fullness of joy. I am coming home to you right here where you never left me even though I left you a hundred times. I am back to my first love. I am here to stay!

I will no more look behind my shoulder only to see my own shadow. No more looking in the mirror to see a caricature looking at me dressed in ridiculous seductive clothing. No more ties with those who tied me down. No more believing in lies about your love for me; your word is my truth! If anyone recognizes the innocence beneath the decorated caricature, let the one pesewa coin shine as the jewel you will turn me into. I am ready to shine both day and night.

I come to you just as I am without fear of rejection. Back to the place of your security I come, where I belong. I am here to stay!




Psalm 32: 1-6

1          Oh, what joy for those whose rebellion is forgiven, whose sin is put out of sight!

2          Yes, what joy for those whose record the LORD has cleared of sin, whose lives are lived in complete honesty!

3          When I refused to confess my sin, I was weak and miserable, and I groaned all day long.

4  Day and night your hand of discipline was heavy on me. My strength evaporated like water in the summer heat.

5          _ Finally, I confessed all my sins to you and stopped trying to hide them.

I said to myself, “I will confess my rebellion to the LORD.” And you forgave me! All my guilt is gone.

6          Therefore, let all the godly confess their rebellion to you while there is time,

that they may not drown in the floodwaters of judgment.



  1. Do you believe God is capable of forgiving Amanda for the sin of prostitution?
  2. Why was the psalmist weak and miserable when he refused to confess his sin?
  3. How did Amanda’s realization that God would not reject her despite her promiscuity set her free from bondage?
  4. When Amanda realized how important she was for God to send his only begotten son to die for her, how did she value herself?
  5. Do you know anyone who refuses to accept Jesus Christ because they feel unworthy and sinful?
  6. How will you encourage them or yourself to know that He came for the sinful and not the righteous?


NB: This story is purely fictional and a result of my active imaginations. It is unrelated to any person dead or alive; any such resemblance is purely coincidental.

At the age of 36, God-fearing Judith is still single and a virgin. She has been fasting and praying to God endlessly to bring her a man to call her own. Judith misses no opportunity to go to church, attend deliverance and prophetic services all in an attempt to receive God’s blessings. Many derogatory comments are passed at her back even from loved ones she least expected. It is presumed that she is unable to marry because she s choosy and snobbish. However, it is far from the truth. No serious God-fearing man had come her way yet. This bothers her so much that she approaches the Lord in prayer to come to her aid and right her wrong. She petitions God once again leaving the decision to him.

Daddy Lord,

If you will do what you will do, then why does your word tell me to pray? Do you just want to hear the words that come out of my mouth as evidence that I am still on your side? Why have you not answered my prayer when I have persisted without fail? Your word tells me that if I have faith as small as a mustard seed, I will move mountains. My faith may be small, but it is bigger than a mustard seed. So why is this mountain still in front of me? Your words say it is not good for man to be alone. So why does this goodness elude me if you are my God? Why am I alone with no man to call my own?

At the age of 36 what other form of prayer do you seek from me so I can see results? Teach me lord, I have gone through your Holy Book and prayed in all the possible ways. My prayers have ranged from Hanna’s unuttered words through David’s Psalms as well as Jabez’s prayer. I have fasted and prayed as Jesus recommended for difficult situations. I have only ended up with a stomach ulcer, the physical evidence that I have done my part.  Despite this, I have not stopped praising you. I give you thanks in all things as a good Christian ought to.

Have I not brought my tithes and offerings before you, so you will open the floodgates of heaven and poor down your blessings on me? Have I not bound demons down here on earth until there was none left to bind? Have I not brought others who share the same grief together in one accord to meet your requirement, which says; when two of us agree on something, it will be done for us? Why is my situation the same? What am I doing wrong or not doing right? All of those I prayed with are married but me.

If you are the merciful father whose anger lasts for a moment, then I know that my sins are not the issue here. Is it too much to ask that you give me a good man to call my own? What is the use of all this beauty you have endowed me with, if I am only admired but not claimed? Sometimes I wonder if I was foolish to have kept my virginity. Even my younger siblings know the pleasures on the matrimonial bed simply because they are married. If I experience the same, you will say I have fornicated. Why then will you not give me the opportunity to legally enjoy what you created? After all Paul once said it is better to marry than to burn with passion. I am burning with passion but who will hold me?

Your word stopped me when I wanted a baby for myself to call my own. If marriage is not your wish for me, at least let me have my own baby. If I do this, will I be justified? You will certainly accuse me of sexual immorality. At times, I wonder if it was a mistake to ask you into my heart. If you did not live in me, I would have had the courage to treat my body as I wanted. I would have made decisions that suited me without a pang of guilt.

If I knew prayer was so powerful, I would not have prayed to you to send away all men who would come into my life to hurt me until I met the man you created for me. Since that prayer, no one has come my way to make me feel like a woman. Please hasten to bring my man because the wait is now unbearable.

Are you afraid that the love I have for you will belong to another? Who can love a mortal and an immortal man in the same vain? No one can take your place in my heart. You are my God and true love. You are my first love.

The sermon I was listening to the other day spoke about how your answer to prayer is Yes, No or Wait. At first I thought telling me to wait was better than an outright No. I know better now, waiting upon you is the greatest cross one can carry. How I admire Abraham who waited until your promise came to pass. I wonder the feeling Elizabeth had when her baby jumped in her womb. I wish I had their patience! I know the fruits of the spirit include longsuffering but to wait upon you like this knowing your will, will prevail regardless of my plans is unbearable. You should have put in me a desire to live without a man. Why do you not take away my desire to be with a man since this desire is unfulfilled?

The prophecies and dreams regarding my marriage are so many yet none has come to pass. Other dreams and prophecies in other areas of my life have materialized but my marriage. How will I have the strength to wait upon you?

Society has placed a negative tag on me simply because I am single at my age. I was listening to a radio show the other day when one man spoke intensely about how successful women were so choosy and unwilling to settle down. Do you remember how I shook my head and laughed without mirth? What is there to choose from, when there is nothing to choose at all? Why should I not strive for success when there is nothing to tie me down? I would rather pursue my dreams because no man pursues me.

I wish society could be truthful and spare me the agony. Why rush into marriage and rush out of it? How I wish our mothers’ would be truthful like Aunty Dora. She envied my patience and my resolve to settle for nothing but your best for me. When will our Mothers’ reveal how they suffer in their marriages instead of pushing us into the same situation? If they will tell us the truth, perhaps we will have more patience, waiting on you.

Nothing frustrates me more when I hear that it is because I have been married in the spirit that I find no one here on earth to call my own. If this is the case then what did all my prayers and fasting accomplish? What were the deliverances I went through worth when my body became so weak I could hardly stand on my feet? What did the bottles of anointing oil that could have done wonders in the kitchen accomplish on my head? What was the use of the many anointed hands that placed on me?

Where can I find you, God? Clearly, you need to answer me. Are my enemies stronger than you are or does your will no longer matter to man? If a Christian woman is not married, is it because she is spiritually married? If she is barren, is it because she has spiritual babies? We need to know the truth. The bondage for which you sent your son to set us free, continues to entangle us drawing us further back into the darkness. Is your will no longer a priority?  If a Christian has waited upon you while the answer to her prayer is still pending, what can she do? How many more witches can I kill? How many more demons can I bind; I am only human.

The church has become even more unbearable for me for even there, there is no respite. People ask me when I will marry as if their happiness depends on my marriage. Do they forget that I am not God? That I do not have the answers? I have run out of polite answers to these questions and may resort to sarcastic replies if you do not keep me in check. It beats my mind that even in church the most foolish married person is sometimes regarded above the unmarried one who may be wiser. Singles have been disqualified from certain position simple because of their status regardless of their commitment to you. Help us lord or we may flee into the world.

I need to see you lift me up before my enemies. My victory will not be worth celebrating if all my enemies die. Who will see my victory? Many women have turned to other gods who quickly come to their aid. Others have stopped following you because this long suffering is long indeed. Hold on to me lord that I may not give up. Wipe the tears from my eyes and put a new song in my heart. Bless me with a good marriage for you alone bless man and add no sorrows to it. You know what is good for me and can see behind the veil covering the soul.

I have heard that those who have turned away from you get the best in life. Is this true; are your children not supposed to be the victors in this world? If you were able to differentiate between the children of Egypt and those of Israel when you sent the plaques, then I beg to differ in this view. You know your own and I am yours. Let not my worship be in vain. Open my eyes that I may see beyond and appreciate how you have protected me all this while.

The irony of the situation is that those who have strayed from you to indulge in fornication see it in their place to counsel me. They caution that you will not send a man to me from heaven. They say that I should go out there and get a man because I have all it takes. Isn’t it funny? When my colleague told me the other day to go after men since my clock was ticking, I kept quiet and listened. It was interesting because she seemed so knowledgeable about how to grab and keep a man. It was funny to me because she has been in a sexual relationship for ten years though she is not married.

Her wedding day never comes though she says it will. Does this qualify her to advice me? I don’t claim righteousness before you because you know my weakness. However, it is sad that those who ignore your laws turn around to counsel your children who patiently wait for you.

And then there is my friend Erica, jumping from men to men in her quest to find the best man. To her, God will not find a husband for you. It is sad when I see her cheapen herself despite the fact that she is a child of God. She claims she can change them and marry them but where has that left her? All the dirty clothes she washed and food she cooked for the men did not pay off. Her body has been used to satisfy their lust, yet she claims I need a man. Hmmm, I do not blame her for this wait is not easy.

Give your daughters’ the strength to wait and the ability to trust you for your word caution us not to lean on our own understanding. I wonder what would have happened if I did not heed your word. I may have ended up a second wife or agreed to marry to Cephas even though I knew he did not believe in you. I am grateful that you have kept me from desperation and guided me with your word lest I fall.

Help me as I prepare for the day when you will lay a table before me in the presence of my enemies. They think you have forsaken your children; please vindicate me. When my children jump around my house singing praises to you one day, let all those who said that it would be impossible to have children at my age marvel at your handiwork. Teach them that in the school of faith, science is disgraced. For who established the times but you. And who is wiser than you to question your ways and motives?

Have mercy on us God, for we are only humans. You alone know what is good for me though at times I feel that I know best. If Elizabeth knew that she had to be barren so John the Baptist could usher  Jesus into the world, she would not have unduly worried.

Help me understand your ways and not mine. Reveal a fraction of your mind to me and my heart will be steadfast, trusting in you. Let me see what you see and not what I want to see. Your word says your ways are not my ways nor your thoughts my thoughts. However, my mortal mind fails to comprehend this at times until your words steer me toward the truth. The day I know everything, you do and why, you will cease to be my God for my wisdom is lesser than a strand of your golden hair.

Let me live each day as a gift from you, enjoying the blessings you have so far granted unto me. You are a God of beauty who lets all things work together for good for all those who love you. Let my love for you grow to the point where I too may enjoy these promises of yours for even your name submits to your word.

Let me be the testimony of my time for all to know that you are the same God, yesterday today and forever more. I concur that whether it tarries, it shall come to pass. And even if Tomorrow never comes, let me be like Job who said that even though slays him, he will worship him. In Jesus name, I lay down my petition, until I knock at your door again. With unending love as always, it is Judith. Amen



Isaiah 40:31   but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.

Psalms 27:13-14   I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living! Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!

Psalms 37:34  Wait for the LORD and keep his way, and he will exalt you to inherit the land; you will look on when the wicked are cut off.

Proverbs 3:5-6  Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.

Lamentations 3:25   The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.

Micah 7:7   But as for me, I will look to the LORD; I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me.



How does society force singles to enter into bad marriages?

Like Judith, do you agree that waiting for our heart’s desire can be the most difficult thing for a practicing Christian?

Do you agree that God knows best and makes all things beautiful in his time and not our time?

How can we remain faithful to God when our prayers have not yet been answered?

How does the way other Christians react to single adults worsen their plight?






NB: This story is purely fictional and a result of my active imaginations. It is unrelated to any person dead or alive; any such resemblance is purely coincidental.

Many women are dealt different blows of life from different angles, sometimes tragic and even deadly. Little did Monica know at the age of 26, she too would taste life’s bitter pill. She had suffered a lump in one of her breasts, which had become cancerous when detected. Unfortunately, her breast was removed to prevent the cancer from spreading to the rest of her body. She had always cherished her breasts since it was the most beautiful part of her body. As a child, she had fantasized about feeding her children as she played mummy. Thus, she was shattered after the operation when she beheld her bare chest in the mirror. Two weeks after the surgery, she deals with the mishap the only way she has knew how. Her father in heaven will have to hear what she thinks of this and what this experience has told her about him.

Dear lord,
If I am dear to you like you are to me, then you have an ironic way of showing it. If I earned your displeasure by showing off my cleavage, perhaps you should have dealt with me less harshly as your word attests to your mercy. If I knew, the time would come where I would have nothing to show above my chest, I would have saved many memories for a time like this. How do you see me now? The weight that graced my chest no longer tells of my identity. How will my Adam one day see me when he realizes his eve is incomplete? Will he still love me like you do and look past my chest to the love lying within, or will he turn around in disgust unsatisfied one lovely dove is gone?

Will what I have left, have the ability to satisfy the thirst of the three lovely kids I hope to have one day? And if you give me twins, who will have to sacrifice in suckling mummy’s breast first? Will what I have left be enough? How beautiful it is, to see a baby suckle his mother’s breast. How beautiful it is to me to see a husband rest his head on his wife’s bosom and like a baby, never wanted to leave its comfort. Oh, how beautiful it is to stand in the mirror in admiration of what you graciously endowed me. Were all those thoughts in vain unknowing one day soon, those fantasies will elude me?

How childhood might have laughed at me when I put the tiny insect on my nipple at age 13, with the ridiculous belief it would grow my bosom. When my friends Sandra and Victoria did this day after day, anticipating bigger breasts, it seemed to work with our vivid imagination. Little did we know those little insects stolen from the sand were needless in such circumstances. If having breasts, as a woman was not important, then why did we crave to have the same thing we saw on our mothers’ and sisters’ chests at that tender age? Why did we hope to skip childhood to adolescence? Is it not because you had put in us that innate desire? You are my father and I feel no shame baring my soul to you, for nothing I think, say or do has ever shocked you or will ever do.

I feel I have become a half woman who has no evidence of her identity. For what separates me from a man if we both have a flat chests? How will the embrace of my husband be when he feels no warmth and tenderness? Will I find one who loves me as you do? When the Doctor broke the news to me that I had a cancerous lump in my breast, oh how I prayed. How I prayed like Jesus did when he cried out to you to take away this cup, but unlike him, I never had the courage to ask for your will to prevail. So why did you not heal me? Why did you not command the traitorous lump which threatened to steal the life of your daughter, disappear into the depths of hell where it came from?

Did you not say in your word I am the apple of your eye and that you hold me in the palm of your hands? So how did harm come my way when I lay in God’s own palm? Have you not exalted your word about your name? Are you not the God who does what you will do? If so, does this mean the good plans you claim to have for me right from my mother’s womb were instead plans of evil, meant to harm me? The mere thought of this breaks my heart into a million pieces, for deep down I know the yards of old cannot measure your love. The wisest man who ever lived  cannot describe your love for me.

I know removing my left breast saved my life preventing the cancer from spreading to other parts of my body. I look forward to the reason you kept me alive. I am left with the right one, a tribute of your wisdom to why you created them in a pair. So why do I feel I have lost my most prized possession? I know the unbearable pain is gone away with it, but you alone know what it left behind. A low self-esteem and a torture only you who permeates my mind can fathom. Even though the padded bra does its best to play its role, the mirror in my room reminds me of the truth. I have become incomplete!

When I was skeptical the first day in boarding school about bathing naked, the innocent girly comments about my lovely breasts made me so happy. Even though I was shy, the compliments made me confident in my womanhood. At least if my face was not so beautiful, something of mine was. This may sound silly, but when my female colleagues voted my breasts as the most beautiful in secondary school, my joy knew no bounds. It was all a game but it made me happy. I couldn’t wait to show them to my husband on our honeymoon. You know this God, for I have not kept this fantasy from you. Between us, there are no secrets.

Am I holding on to vanity or do you feel my pain? Thank you for speaking to my spirit the other day as I looked into the mirror. When you told me I was still more beautiful to you, that the beauty within me covers my scars from your sight, oh how my heart soared. However, down here on earth where man does not think as you do, please help me survive. Help me survive with what you have graciously left me. Help me survive with the life you spared. Oh God, Help me! The tears my family and dearest friends shed upon realizing I may have lost my life make me realize it was worth the sacrifice for I am thankful you have given me such loved ones. You have blessed me with people who can look at me through your eyes and love me unceasingly.

The mere fact that my younger sister Tracy naively thought she could donate her own breast to make me happy taught me a great lesson. We hold on to what we can easily let go. There is nothing we can live without unless you whose name is Jehovah decide to take away the breath you have given to us. The only thing and the only one I cannot leave without, is you. My God, my Father and my friend! It is interesting how we love you when everything goes well for us and turn our back on you, when it happens otherwise. Oh, now I cherish Jesus the more for those of us who follow him have a great task ahead.

The crown of thorns that pierced his head would have been enough for me to say bye to you. I would have thrown the sword that pierced his side at you, had that been me. The nails that passed through his hands and feet would never have earned my forgiveness as he did forgive even those who persecuted him. The spit on his face alone would have doubled my steps back to the path of sin and the denial from his best friend would have made me reject you before the multitude. Now you know how I felt when the nurse whispered to her colleague these things happen to bad girls who allow men to manhandle their breasts.

Why do people cut you down into pieces when you are already in shreds and speak of what they know nothing about? Why do people presume the worse of an innocent victim who is already suffering? Does she know my breasts have not yet experienced the palms or lips of any man? Did she know her words made me feel worse than the physical pain I was already going through? Did she know her judgment of me could take away your mercy from her? And what about her colleague, how I wish she had defended me in speech, instead of the shocked look she displayed on her face at that utterance. I was too weak to speak out and so tongue-tied no words would have come out, had I tried.

Maybe that is what she had heard, refusing to set aside her ignorance to find out the truth. How interesting that she would cut her fellow woman to pieces, forgetting the same faith may await her one-day or a loved one so dear. Why do people forget it is a small world where no one can hide from life’s blows? Why do people feel a tragedy is so far away from them even when it has happened to a neighbor nearby? Perhaps, one day she would understand and remember the look in my eyes as I stared unblinkingly at her, as she administered the anesthetics in preparation for my moment of doom. Maybe she thought I couldn’t hear her, since she had whispered those hurtful words. Maybe she thought it was an innocent comment but the sarcasm in her voice took out its innocence. Someday she may understand misfortune does not only visit the sinful.

One thing I ask of you Lord; do not let your children be subject to the mercy of man. When I look back to the entire procedure, I realize you never left my side for a single moment. I could see you in the eyes of my loved ones and feel you in the touch of the doctor whose sincerity vibrated from within her, making me know we had the same greater being living in us. Oh, what a joy it is, to find a man who loves the lord, a man who loves his neighbor as himself and seeks to please you. It is true a lot has changed these days, in contrast to women who suffered at a time when there was no solution. I can say at least I am grateful misfortune has visited me at a time, when there is hope.

When I visited the breast cancer women’s club, I was astonished. The stories they shared moved me to tears and laughter at the same time. Hope and encouragement entered my heart as I realized I was not alone. Life must go on, with or without what I have lost. I am grateful at least in some months down the line if I decide to have my next surgery, I would have a new bosom forgetting the cold I feel there now. It doesn’t matter it will not be real, for I know reality is believing in something to be, even if it is not. I have not made the decision yet but I know even if I do, the tongues of those who do not know the reality of my condition will continue to wag. Maybe this time they will call me promiscuous, just maybe… Nevertheless, when the time comes, my head will no more hang low. Your glory will lift my head and my tongue loosened to your praise.

I will make my voice heard and glory in your salvation that all may know my God spared my life from sudden death. Oh, how I love you lord for you have spared my life. How I praise you God, for you have dealt kindly with me. I will proclaim of your goodness and mercy all the days of my life. Even at times when my flesh takes charge and my tongue speaks of how my God did not take away my cup of sorrow; please remember I am but human. A woman whose daily struggle is to live a life pleasing to you. For life, here on earth is a daily struggle, a continued race and a long journey. A journey attempted and failed is better than one never attempted. A Christian walk without trials cannot boast of standing the test of true discipleship. Therefore, help me father for I know not the next cross I may have to carry. But this I know; with you by my side I can face the world.

If the world thrown at me is that of sorrow, make it joyful for me. If it is a world without peace, let it be peaceful for me because in my own world where you dwell, I shall be victorious. Let everyone who has gone through this ordeal but does not know you come to know you. For though in my world you belong to me alone, am willing to share your love with others who need you more. I wipe away my tears and look beyond my scars where I can see what you alone can see. Daddy’s little Girl, Monica. I am the apple of your eye, unchanging in your sight and still beautiful to you. Thank you for sparing my life. Amen.



2 Corinthians 4:16-18

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

Jeremiah 30:17
For I will restore health to you, and your wounds I will heal, declares the Lord, because they have called you an outcast: ‘It is Zion, for whom no one cares!’

Isaiah 53:4
Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.

Joshua 1:9
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”



How can we support suffering people without  being judgmental?

Like Monica, do you agree that even the most intimate details of our life can be discussed with God in prayer?

How can we deal with sudden devastating events in our lives?

How does the way Christians react to suffering in their lives minister to unbelievers?



NB: This is a story about a young woman who prays to God about her struggles with her looks. It is purely fictional and a result of my imaginations. It is unrelated to any person dead or alive; any such resemblance is purely coincidental.

Josephine is the last born of her rich parents and 3 beautiful elder sisters. She was born a midget, gifted with a very high I. Q that many envied. However, due to her structure she suffered a great deal of torment from insensitive people wherever she went. Her self-esteem suffered a greater setback at home when she compared herself to her beautiful sisters with normal heights and lovely faces. Thus, she often felt lonely regardless of the love of her family and friends. Haven cried out to God several times to make her as beautiful as her sisters were, she often downplayed the great intelligence quotient God had gifted her with and couldn’t accept the way she was. She goes to God in prayer as she always does to explain her position.

Omniscient God,
How wonderful it is to come before your presence where there is no reproach or hurtful word. A peaceful moment where I feel accepted and loved by you. You encourage me in your word not to look down on myself since everything you have created is good in thy sight. With my sight, I see the beauty all around me, but fail to see what your hands have invested in me. Who can blame me? So much beauty surrounds me, I feel lost and invisible at times. Anyone who comes to my house for the first time looks at me as if I were the scar on my perfect family. The group pictures at the hall embarrass me so much I feel like smashing it and tearing myself out of it. The smiles I display in them are fake because I hate taking pictures. I am afraid to look at them afterwards.

At times, I wonder where I come from since I look so different from my sisters and anyone in my family from both parent’s side. Why didn’t the beautiful faces of my sisters find another version unto my face with dimpled cheeks and deep brown eyes? Why did you make their skins so beautiful and bright it sparkles in the night while my own complexion makes me feel so awkward around them? If my mom had not convinced me I was hers, I would have thought she and dad adopted me from an orphanage.

Living as a midget in this cruel society is the worst thing that can happen to anyone. At less than 4 feet, I feel like an outcast living among humans. I will have taken my life long ago if you did not live in my heart. Why do you create others so perfectly while others suffer in appearance? Why did you create me this way? At age 19, my height is ridiculous especially when children pass by me. I cannot even pretend to be a child because my body tells a different story. A small person with an adult’s body that is what you made me. Hmm, it is not easy living like this.

People stare at me as if I were from space. They never stop staring even when they have seen me repeatedly. How do I stop someone from staring at me even if I hate it so much? The defensive attitude I put up to protect myself makes me look mean even if I don’t want to. Do you blame me? You know I hate being the center of attention. When my sisters walk by, the attention they attract is that of admiration while the looks I receive are scornful.

The only place where I find refuge is my bedroom at home because even at home I feel out of place. I cannot tell you my family doesn’t love me because you know the truth and see all things. I have never lacked love at home though I sometimes think it is out of pity. My elder sisters look so alike I wish I looked as they did. Maybe then, I would be happier. Even though you gave me a brain and a memory even Archimedes would envy, I yearn for someone to call me beautiful. My mom always tells me how beautiful she thinks I am but she is just being kind. It will be good to hear this from a stranger. I prefer beautiful to weird or strange. Calling me weird is like a slap on my cheek; a slap I receive all the time.

I want to know how it feels to have men whistle in admiration when I pass by instead of the applauses I receive after I have won one more price. Am I being ungrateful to you? Am I asking for too much or do you understand the tender yearnings of my heart? Is it not normal for a younger sister always to adore her elder siblings and try to be like them? Is this not what many young ones yearn for? Is that not why they cry late at night when no one can hear and comfort them? Maybe if people’s comments were not so harsh, it would be bearable.

Though I am called Daddy’s little girl who lacks no material thing, I sometimes wonder if my dad truly loves me. He eagerly introduces me to his friends when they visit only when he wants to boast about his intelligent daughter who won one price or the other. But I am not the first he calls when he wants to show off his beautiful daughters. I know everyone has their weak and strong points but it pains me that my imperfections are so visible. It takes the ones who are truly kind at heart to love me for me.

With my height, I wonder what high heels will make me move with as much grace as Tracy, Ivy or Samantha. They move with such grace even with flat heels. My self-confidence flies out of the window anytime we go out as a family. I see mummy beam with smiles when people comment about how beautiful her girls look, taking after her. They then look at me as if I were a stranger. I will never forget the day her old school mate mistakenly referred to me as the house help. I felt so bad. The way mummy reprimanded her impressed me but her words had already done damage.

Fortunately, none of my family members allow negative comments about me in their presence. Mummy who can never hide her emotions is clearly the most affected. At times, she doesn’t know what to say when such issues arise in order not to hurt me more. Innocent comments she made in the past in her motherly attempt to defend me did not go down well with me as I threw childish tantrums. Moments like that are very uncomfortable for my family. Most times, I protest when they ask me to go out with them but the sad looks on their faces always change my mind.

After I read your word that stated that you created the deaf, dumb and blind alike in your own wisdom, I stopped asking myself why you made me this way. I have came to know that I am just as important as those around me but with a destiny as different as anyone else’s. You have taught me to love myself and accept myself the way I am. I have learnt to pretend so much that no one knows when I am miserable.

I need more love; I need to be told I am beautiful every time even if people don’t mean it. And when I wear a dress that does not suit me, I need a smile and not a laugh, an alternative and not a criticism. It is only in your presence that I feel safe enough to lay down my guard. I never feel ugly when I am in your presence as I do in the presence of men. You alone know what is good for me and choose to do what you will.

Last night I did it again, even though I had promised not to. When I saw the group picture we took as a family last week, I couldn’t help noticing how different I looked. When mummy commented on how lovely I looked with sincerity ringing in her voice along with the unison in my sisters’, I knew they meant it. However as I continued to look, all I could see were my flaws and how different I looked beside them. Instead of saying thank you, I turned around and left them standing there in surprise.

Why do I always blame them for something that is not their fault? I break the hearts of those who love me the most and hurt myself in the process. I am never able to address an issue without bringing in my looks even if the issues were unrelated. I am afraid I will lose them if you don’t help me change. The other day, when Tracy called me intelligent as I sat in my small corner reading my book, I know she meant no harm. But I would have preferred her calling me beautiful instead. How I wish I could just have laughed instead of glaring at her until she paled in my presence. I felt so bad because I love her so much.

Why am I unable to see beyond my looks to appreciate my other blessings? You have blessed me with an admiring intelligence exceeding someone my age. An intelligence others wish to have instead of the beauty I crave. You have given me good friends who admire the wisdom that comes out of my mouth. They prefer to hear me speak rather than endure the dry sense of humor from even the most beautiful girls. My sisters ask me for help with academic issues although I am much younger. Lord, in your wisdom you have gifted me with what is good for me. This is what will help me fulfill destiny.

Ignorant people look at me as if I were less of a human being. Others avoid me like a virus; I wonder if they know the gem in me. It takes the wise and kind at heart to know there is more to me than my awkward appearance. No one who took the time to know me has ever regretted. This is evident in the number of friends I have. They all adore me and even fight for my attention.

When my sister Samantha fell in love with that handsome man, I knew he was not right for her. I used how you created me as an illustration to save her from a heartbreak from which she might not have recovered. I listened patiently to her about how handsome he was and how lucky she was to receive attention from him. But my simple question turned the brightness in her eyes to one of confusion and realization. “When you take away that handsome cover from him, what else do you see?” She was like a blind woman who had just regained her sight. All she saw when she looked at him was his gorgeous body. I was sad at the look in her eyes and the words she seemed to stammer, for.

I could never remember a time when she was lost for words. I am grateful that you used me to save her. Beyond the muscled chest and handsome face, the young man had nothing to offer her. The hug she gave me as she cried on my shoulder was priceless. That day, you gave me a revelation I had refused to admit to myself. The fact that I do not glitter outside does not mean that I am no gold. I am grateful that you quickly dispelled the bitterness that I initially harbored. You have been my light and taught me that the body is just a cover that conceals either good or bad just as a book whose contents are unknown unless it is read.

My height can never determine my altitude. You are able to carry me on your shoulders if I cannot see above. You are my father and my maker. If I have made you unhappy by being unhappy about how your great hands have made me, please forgive me. Give me the eyes to see your spirit within me and the heart to forgive every rude stare. Give me the humor to laugh with those who have a cause to laugh at my mistakes. Let me not read much meaning into it. Help me love myself as you have loved me forever and ever amen.

1 Samuel 16:1-7
1 _ Finally, the LORD said to Samuel, “You have mourned long enough for Saul. I have rejected him as king of Israel. Now fill your horn with olive oil and go to Bethlehem. Find a man named Jesse who lives there, for I have selected one of his sons to be my new king.”
2 _ But Samuel asked, “How can I do that? If Saul hears about it, he will kill me.”
“Take a heifer with you,” the LORD replied, “and say that you have come to make a sacrifice to the LORD. 3 _ Invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and I will show you which of his sons to anoint for me.”
4 _ So Samuel did as the LORD instructed him. When he arrived at Bethlehem, the leaders of the town became afraid. “What’s wrong?” they asked. “Do you come in peace?”
5 _ “Yes,” Samuel replied. “I have come to sacrifice to the LORD. Purify yourselves and come with me to the sacrifice.” Then Samuel performed the purification rite for Jesse and his sons and invited them, too.
6 _ When they arrived, Samuel took one look at Eliab and thought, “Surely this is the LORD’s anointed!” 7 _ But the LORD said to Samuel, “Don’t judge by his appearance or height, for I have rejected him. The LORD doesn’t make decisions the way you do! People judge by outward appearance, but the LORD looks at a person’s thoughts and intentions.”

1. Like Josephine, do you sometimes feel you are not beautiful or important enough?
2. Do you blame God for your imperfections and wish you were like someone else?
3. What does the above scripture tell you about how the Lord judges people?
4. As human beings, how can learning from how God judges people make us accept people just as they are?
5. How does wanting to be like others instead of loving ourselves make us envious and bitter people?
6. Like Josephine, do you agree that counting our blessings bring us happiness instead of wallowing in self-pity about what we don’t have?



NB: This is a story about a divorced christian woman who prays to God about her painful experience in marriage. It is purely fictional and a result of my active imaginations. It is unrelated to any person dead or alive; any such resemblance is purely coincidental.

Mabel had done all she could to hold on to her marriage. She had endured her husband’s physical and emotional abuse at the expense of her joy. She took her marriage vow seriously and knew divorce was not an option for her. Haven been brought up in a broken home herself she determined none of her three children would ever experience her predicament. As a respected member of her church and women’s leader, she helped other women hold on to their marriage as she silently suffered. However, when her husband hit their eight year old daughter one day in a fit of rage, the thin line holding their marriage broke. She had taken all the pain and unfaithfulness from Robert. However, she was not ready to sacrifice her children. Thus, even though she had held on to the fact that God hated divorce for so long, she took a bold decision. No one could change her mind as she went through a painful divorce. But she knew that the lord who hated divorce did not hate her for that one important decision, her divorce.

My dear lord,
You know I have tried. I have done all I know how to hold on to this marriage though I knew for a long time I was chasing the wind. How many times have I not fasted and prayed that you heal my marriage? How many times have I not wet my pillow with tears as I cried my heart out to you? How long have I called on to you to save my marriage and turn back my husband’s heart to you? I have lost count and you alone have the mind to remember.

Why me? All I have tried to do is to live by the Christian tenets in my attempt to please you. If I had known behind that gentle look and handsome face was a monster that lived in Robert, I would have gladly died a spinster. If I knew behind the biblical quotations he gave, were abusive words that could tear at a person’s soul, I would have ended up with an unbeliever. If I knew he waited to marry me to have sex only for him to cheat on me because of his insatiable sexual desires, I would have avoided him like a plaque.

If I knew he pretended not to drink before me only to booze in secret, I would have confined myself in a convent. Why me Lord? After all the waiting, did you have to bless me with this curse? I thought he loved you as I did so I did not hesitate in marrying him though we didn’t meet for long. What was there to know when he was a junior pastor admired by many? How could I say no to our pastor who gave his blessing to our marriage when I told him of his intentions to marry me? At first I thought the lion was the most dangerous animal but now I fear the chameleon more than any wild beast.

How does one perfectly hide his true character even from a man of God who had known him for so long? Even though I was 26 when we got married I was in no hurry since I was content in waiting for your will. It saddens me that I believed our pastor entirely instead of carefully seeking your will. He is even dismayed about the way our marriage has turned out and blames himself for my pain. But what use will that do? My broken heart cannot be mended and I am devastated.

How could a man who said he loved me bring me so much pain? How could the one I freely gave myself to turn around and force himself on me when I was so tired from doing all the house chores? How did the so-called humility turn to such egotistic chauvinism? How did I get here? I am wearing my mother’s shoes though I vowed never to break my home. But what is there to break when the hearts are already broken?

Where did I go wrong? Have I not been the virtuous woman in proverbs 31? Have I not submitted myself to him even when I knew I was right? Have I not endured humiliation and lied to my colleagues at work about the bruises he gave me on the face? have I not subjected myself to all sorts of humiliation for his sake? What more could a person do? I wonder how you felt when you looked down at my pathetic life. Did you feel my pain? Did you wish to hold me in your arms as I cried myself to sleep.

When older Christian women who I confided in urged me to hold on to my marriage, I totally agreed with them. After all, you hate divorce. I did not want my children to be fatherless as I saw the effect this had on my own brothers who went wayward. It is sad when the bible is misused to encourage women to endure abuse. I now marvel at the strength you gave me these eight years of marriage.

I loved him so much and accepted his apologies that followed immediately after each abuse. My house is filled with gifts he gave me after his bad behavior and his promise to change. Why not, after all no one is perfect. But I have endured so much for this marriage and there comes a time when one can take no more. I didn’t deserve to be treated that way because I never used my higher education to Lord it over him. I saw him as the man in every way because I wanted to please you. However, although I submitted, where was the love?

Is the man not supposed to love his wife as Christ died for the church and died for it? Why should a woman submit to a man who does not submit to you? Is this submission not supposed to be a two way thing? Help your daughters God, for your words are being manipulated to suit evil. I have gambled greatly and lost though I have come out wiser and tougher. No wonder my mom did not approve him. When she told me there was something about him she didn’t like although she did not know what it was, I just laughed.

I called her an old woman and teased her though she was obstinate. I should have listened to her and taken my time to know him more in spite of the outward perfection he displayed. I was in love and blind but refused to heed the eyes that could see beyond the handsome pastor. Life is not fair but I take this as my share of its unfairness. I know I should have left the first time he hit me but I thought he would change. After all, he told me he was sorry. A thousand sorries and he never changed.

I was too ashamed to leave a marriage I had just entered for fear of what people would say. I should have used the opportunity I had when I was not yet pregnant to escape but no one held my hand and helped me. All I was told was to stay and pray until he changed. Oh what a cross I have had to carry at this young age? What did I do wrong? Is it a crime to love? Was I wrong to hope and pray for his change?

You know how it took a long time for people to believe he abused me. I protected him so much at the detriment of my life and now I regret it. I should have opened up an sought for help but I thought you would be angry with me. When he refused counseling, I should have left. Instead I stayed on, hoping and praying for the miracle of change that never came. I held on to something that was not.

I wonder why I stayed on when he was unfaithful to me even though I caught him red handed with that young woman at his office? I now look back at my folly and cringe in disgust because I feel I threw the wisdom you gave me away. I was foolish but in love. Anytime he said he was sorry I melted. He was my first love and what I felt for him was so deep. God, it was hard and even if no one believes me; you could always see with your omnipresent eyes.

This divorce is so difficult for me but when he hit my daughter Emelda, I stopped deceiving myself. The fierceness of a mother’s protection over her daughter took over and I went mad. I still remember her sprawled on the kitchen floor and I know I would never have forgiven myself if something terrible had happened to her. I can still hear the terrible screams of my two younger boys as they looked on in horror.

When I saw fear enter Robert’s eyes for the first time, I knew the bitterness in me had overcome my fear. If he had not run away, I would surely have stabbed him with the kitchen knife and went to prison for murder. Never again will I endure such nonsense and indignity. Never again will I put my children’s life in danger at the mercy of this beast. Never again! Thank you for the courage to remain obstinate despite his pleas and that of his family members to give him another chance.

Even the Pope couldn’t have coerced me to rescind my decision. I now realize I was waiting for a moment when I would rise above my fear to claim my dignity. I no more care what people say because I have realized that society has been unsympathetic toward divorcees. They say the word as if we are an inferior part of society. God help me, but this time I care less.

I am glad I have a good job to support my children and that my family is willing to support me. I now realize my loved ones were always there to lend a hand though I kept the truth from them. I pretended to be strong though I was tearing apart. I thought I could face it alone but now I know better. I am not as weak as I thought I was or helpless like I was made to think. The woman in me is stronger now and with your help, I know I can make it.

I am glad the law has allocated the properties perfectly and I have no financial concern. Even if I did, I know your provision will suffice. Thank you for the three beautiful children you have given me because at least I did not lose it all in this terrible marriage. You blessed me with fruitfulness despite my situation. You are a good God!

I don’t know if I will ever get married again for marriage has left a bitter taste in my mouth and I don’t want to taste it again. When I remember how he used to stand at the pulpit preaching; I feel so angry at the hypocrisy. I sometimes wonder if the congregation could not see through him. But who am I to judge how someone receives their salvation? You alone know why you do what you do. No wonder some pastors caution us not to use their righteousness as a yardstick due to their imperfection.However, how does one separate the two? Is a person’s character not supposed to conform to his teachings? You alone know, I will not judge.

I am glad the police report put fear in him and he has been warned not to come near us. I hear he was suspended because the senior bishop was disgusted with his ways. However, it brings me no joy since he is the father of my children and I wish him well. I am so relieved I have left that church to a peaceful one where no hands will be pointed at my children and me. I am so much at peace and envy the single who disregard their solitude in their quest for a marriage that may not end well.

I am so happy now and confident of your love and your ability to heal me completely. I am doing better at work and the promotion could not have come at a better time. Tears no longer wet my bed and sleep has visited me again. You are faithful and I love you. I thank you for seeing me through this bitter experience that could have killed me. In counseling battered Christian women, I have become more experienced and wiser. I will not make decisions for them but I will share my experience and leave them to decide. After all the choice has always been ours to make. Even you who are God never force us.

Help me raise these children with your support and that of my loved ones. My children are less anxious and it makes me happy. I will do the best I can; as far as you are with me I cannot fail. If it is your will for me to marry again, let it be. But next time; I will look before I leap. Thank you father, that although you hate divorce, you still love me. Amen.

1 _ My children, listen to me. Listen to your father’s instruction. Pay attention and grow wise, 2for I am giving you good guidance. Don’t turn away from my teaching. 3 _ For I, too, was once my father’s son, tenderly loved by my mother as an only child.
4My father told me, “Take my words to heart. Follow my instructions and you will live. 5 _ Learn to be wise, and develop good judgment. Don’t forget or turn away from my words. 6Don’t turn your back on wisdom, for she will protect you. Love her, and she will guard you. 7 _ Getting wisdom is the most important thing you can do! And whatever else you do, get good judgment. 8 _ If you prize wisdom, she will exalt you. Embrace her and she will honor you. 9She will place a lovely wreath on your head; she will present you with a beautiful crown.”
10 _ My child, listen to me and do as I say, and you will have a long, good life. 11I will teach you wisdom’s ways and lead you in straight paths. 12 _ If you live a life guided by wisdom, you won’t limp or stumble as you run. 13 _ Carry out my instructions; don’t forsake them. Guard them, for they will lead you to a fulfilled life.


1. Do you think Christian women sometimes refuse to leave abusive relationships using the bible as their basis?
2. Like Mabel, do you think the word of a pastor or spiritual head should be the most important consideration in choosing a life partner?
3. Does submission in a marriage mean a women should endure abuse at the detriment of her life and children?
4. Do you think God hates Mabel because of her divorce?
5. How do you think the church can support abusive women in the congregation?



NB: This is a fictional story of a rape victim’s prayer; any similar encounter you may have unfortunately experienced or heard about is purely coincidental. The characters and description are purely my active imaginations. No matter how you look at it, rape is not easy for the victim and her family; especially when it involves another family member. But it is real and dates back to biblical times as in the story of Tamar and Amnon found in 2nd Samuel 13:1-21.

Continue reading “RAPED BY THE ONE YOU TRUST”



NB: This is a story about a young woman who prays to God about her struggles with fornication. It is purely fictional and a result of my imaginations. It is unrelated to any person dead or alive; any such resemblance is purely coincidental.

At age 19, Vivian’s world is not as perfect as everyone seems to think. With her beautiful voice, she can charm the entire congregation and has gained the respect of both the young and old.  Many parents wished their daughters’  could possibly turn out to be as decent and innocent as Vivian. Her mother is so proud of her, thinking her beloved daughter is the perfection she couldn’t be. Unfortunately, she has her own secret sins and is not proud of herself . She had been struggling with fornication with Stephen who also attends the same church as a pianist and secretly grieves this issue. The perfection people see in her makes it more difficult to cope and she feels unworthy in God’s eyes. Time without number she has tried to stop fornicating but to no avail. Unable to share this with anyone for fear of rejection, she always asks God to forgive her after the act, promising never to do it again. Sadly, she always finds herself back on her knees asking her heavenly father to forgive her one more time. Perhaps next time, she may have the strength to say, No!

Dear God, I did it again.

Why is it so difficult for me to stop? Am I always going to disappoint you like this? This time I tried harder than ever before, only to fall down on my face with defeat. Maybe I did not try hard enough! Is the spirit in me so weak it can no longer subdue the desires of my flesh? Will you forgive me this time just as you did last week and the week before? Maybe it is too much to ask but what about last month? I struggle to believe you no longer remember my sins in your unforgettable mind.  At church today when Pastor Nelson preached about how you forgive and remember our sins no more, I knew he was telling the truth. For your words are exalted above your name.

However, doubt holds my mind captive. Is it true you have already forgotten what I confessed to you the last time I was here, sobbing on my knees as I begged for forgiveness? Unfortunately, I am here to remind you even if you have. It is for the same reason I come to you today. I am here to ask you to forgive me one more time with no reasonable excuse or justification. I wish I could have hidden from your sight under the covers while I gave myself to Steve again. I am so ashamed at the mere thought of you seeing my naked body under a man even though the sheets covered me. How I wish your omnipresent eyes could not locate me as I disobeyed you. Silly me, for nothing can escape your eyes that see right through me to my internal parts and the imaginations ruling my thoughts.

Your eyes miss nothing as they roam to and fro the earth. Even a baby ant cannot escape your scrutiny. The mere fact that you knew what I would do this afternoon even as I dressed up to go to church this morning makes me cringe. I wonder what you thought of me as I led the melody singers today, singing praises to your Holy name. Why did you not stop me? I know I promised not to go to his house again. I know you gave me a chance to escape when my mom asked me to stay home and watch a movie with her. Yes, you were giving me a way to escape when my cell phone rang ceaselessly. But as he kissed me, my head swam with desire. I forgot tomorrow was a step away and I had to face my guilt.

If only I had answered the call, it would have been my exit strategy. I would have been here singing your praises rather than pleading for forgiveness. Instead, I refused to heed the voice of caution, putting the phone off uncaring who the caller might be. I know I shouldn’t have gone to his house at all, but I felt I was strong enough to push him away when he came close to me. After all, he is still my friend and returning his book was an innocent gesture. Now I realize I am not as strong as I think I am. My will power is not always superior over my flesh to overcome every temptation. Although you have given man the freewill to do what he pleases, I wish you had carried me in your arms into the safety of my own room.

This freewill teaches me that I am not as wise as I think i am. My choices speak of my folly. After the three day fasting and prayers at church, I thought I was strong enough to be alone with him and not let him touch me. After all, when Jesus fasted for forty days, he could resist the devil’s temptation.  I know I did not fast that long nor did Jesus play into the hands of the devil like I did. I went to a man’s room knowing the unavoidable might happen. I wonder what I was thinking; I wish my feet had taken over my mind and retraced its steps as I threaded the path of danger. However, I am but human and you are my God. This is my excuse again, oh God! Will you forgive me one more time?

Can I lift my hands to you again, will you not slap them away and banish me from your holy presence? My hands are not holy and they are not pure. But I keep lifting them up to you in the presence of the congregation looking like an angel before them. I feel like cutting myself and bleeding so you know I am so sorry for disappointing you again but my blood cannot save me. My blood cannot wash away my sins. I feel so guilty because I should have known better. How could I have sung of your holiness in the morning and willingly given myself to sin in the afternoon? If I had known this would happen today; I would have stayed at home the entire day.

Maybe if I had not been to church or led the singing group, I would not have felt so guilty. People were so touched by my singing they came to me after service and told me how blessed they were. Some even called me anointed! Only if they knew the truth about me, that beneath that anointing is a thorn so deep in my flesh. A thorn they would not be able to help me pull out because they may not understand how it came to be there in the first place. I will not be able to bear their criticisms and judgment for I too am human. In you alone do I put my trust to help me pull out this thorn in my flesh. It threatens to locate a nerve. Shame is knocking on my door and if you do not help me shut it out, it will consume me.

I wonder what made me choose Stephen as my prayer partner simply because he was so prayerful. The warning given us at students’ union to have members of the same-sex as our prayer partners now makes sense to me. I thought nothing bad could happen out of the innocence of the two of us praying together at the park while holding hands. Your word in proverbs vindicates itself for I have scooped fire onto my lap and it has inevitably burnt me. Oh God, please help me! Save me from myself, bring me onto purity’s side for sin drowns and covers me in shame!

Even my friend Mimi who looks unchristian by society standards has kept her virginity intact in obedience to you. Misjudged by her choice of clothing and outgoing spirit, mummy wants me to stay away from her. According to her Mimi is a bad influence on me. Only if she knew, the long skirts that make me appear so holy in comparison to Mimi’s short ones did not protect my womanhood. My holy looking garments have not set me on the part of righteousness nor prevented sinful pleasures in the secret place. If she looked deeper, maybe the truth would reveal itself. The other day when she made a bad comment about my friend, I almost blurted out.

“Mummy, help me be the good girl you want me to be because I am not what you think I am! I am not as pure as you portray me to be oh, mummy!” I wanted to tell her to take my hand and pull me out of the river of guilt less I sink. But I feared she would not understand. I am afraid she will never love me again, in her world of perfection there are no flaws. There is no room for me to repeat the mistakes she made, one of them resulting in my birth. She has warned me never to repeat those mistakes as her mother and grandma did before her. How can I hurt her like this when she single- handedly raised me up without a father?

No, my eyes cannot behold her sorrow when she finds out i am not that perfect. That is why I am here again, down on my knees and holding on to you. I am holding on to you like the woman who had her healing by touching the helm of Jesus’s garment. Please make me whole again!. Please don’t kick me away nor feel disgusted by my body. I know I have defiled your temple. I have not kept my body to you as the holy and living sacrifice, you require. I will hold on to you though my body is no more that holy temple. I will cling to you because you can make me complete again. I will come to you because you are the only one who will accept me, knowing the truth.

You will neither cast stones at me nor pierce me deeper with my thorn for your mercy is incomprehensible. It isn’t that mummy doesn’t love me but she is but human like I. Maybe one day when I am strong enough to stop fornicating, I may have the courage to confess. To tell her that her little angel knows how it feels to be in the arms of a man. That her precious daughter  has gone beyond the stages of innocence to the extent of protecting herself from pregnancy. That her daughter has long passed the sharp pain of purity and knows the pleasure beyond. Guilty pleasures that last for a moment but leaves behind unbearable guilt and shame. Oh God, you have not given me the right to these pleasures and I know it is wrong.

It is only when I am married that I will be bold enough to stand in your presence having enjoyed what you yourself have allowed between a man and a woman. Only then will I remove the sheets from my naked body, unashamed as your eyes watch me. Sometimes I feel you are being too hard on me by telling me not to do something you created human beings to enjoy. Why give me these feelings and ask me to wait? Now, I know the truth. Your holy commandments are for my own good. Stephen loves me as long as I give him what he wants and turns his back on me when I say no. My heart has fooled me into mistaking lust for love and now I have learnt to lead it and not just follow blindly.

He is  just a man, enjoying the pleasures I give him on a silver platter. I looked up to him as an elder brother who may find me unattractive even when I was naked. Unfortunately, he does not see me as a sister and though I offer him this forbidden fruit, he does not reject it. I am also guilty of feeling nothing for him after satisfying my body’s lusts. My heart belongs to you and my body too. Let it obey your commands, oh God. If I had known your warning against fornication was just to protect me and not to punish me, I would have been wiser. I would have been more cautious and not ventured so closely to any man. From his arms to yours; Oh lord I come, just as i am.

Cleanse me with your blood one more time and make me white as snow. Wash my hands with the water that flowed from the side of your son Jesus Christ when the soldiers pierced his side on the cross. That I may lift these hands freely to you in an act of worship, with no guilt or self condemnation. I will avoid him and stay as far away from him as Jesus stayed far away from sin while he was here on earth. I will flee from him as Joseph did in the house of Potiphar though it landed him in jail, for man-made prisons can only cage a man and not his soul. The prison my transgression puts me in is a worse torture. Open the gates and set me free oh Lord! I want to abstain from sex, please help me! Help me do what is pleasing in your sight.

Help me bring my flesh under your subjection where you rule. Wipe away my guilt and set me free. Show me your love and don’t throw me away. Then I will know you are God and your grace is real indeed. Your mercy is present and true. Remember my sins no more oh Lord and don’t let me find myself in this dilemma again for I don’t want to come asking you to forgive me the same sin. The same sin I confess to you month after month, week after week. Let me be a good girl, your little girl. Don’t stop loving me and I will do my best not to find myself here again.

Thank you so much for listening to me again as you did the other times. Thank you for patiently giving me an ear to lament my plight. This time I promise not to be in this place again asking you to forgive me the same sin. With your help and strength, when I come here on my knees next time, it will be to thank you for victory. To rejoice that you have brought me out of this web of sin and rescued me from hell’s snare and I will lift my head to you no more ashamed you have seen my shame. I ask you this in the Name of Jesus Christ my lord and personal savior. Amen.


1 Corinthians 6:18-20

Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body. Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.

Galatians 5:19-21

Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.

1 Thessalonians 4:3-4

For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor,

Romans 12:1-2

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. Does God truly forgive and forget our sins as Vivian is wondering? Like Vivian, do you struggle to run away from sexual sin? Why is sexual immorality a sin against our own bodies? What does the scripture mean by we do not belong to ourselves? Will we recognize our bodies as God’s temple if we could see him with our naked eyes residing in us?


Does God truly forgive and forget our sins as Vivian is wondering?

Like Vivian, do you struggle to run away from sexual sin?

Why is sexual immorality a sin against our own bodies?

Will we recognize our bodies as God’s temple if we could see him with our naked eyes residing in us?

Do you agree with Vivian that although we sometimes feel God is being too hard on us by asking us to stay pure until we get married; it is for our own good?


family-714242_960_720NB: This is a story purely fictional and a result of my active imaginations. It is unrelated to any person dead or alive; any such resemblance is purely coincidental.

Christine was never an advocate for father’s day because she did not see the need for its celebration.
Raised by a single mother when her father abandoned them at childhood, there was no father figure in her life.
She had watched her mother struggle to play the role of both father and mother to herself and her younger sister and never missed the opportunity to show her gratitude on mothers’ day.
The first time she heard of fathers’ day, she was so annoyed and told anyone who would listen how irrelevant it was.
Unfortunately, others did not agree with her since they were fortunate to have their fathers present and supportive.
Thus, she kept her opinion to herself and others who concurred with her. To keep from getting irritated every fathers’ day, she switched off her television set and radio, determined not to listen to what she called undeserved praises. However, she was in a taxi one day and did not have a choice but to listen to people calling in to wish their fathers a happy fathers’ day.
As she quietly sulked, she was surprised when an inner voice spoke to her telling her she too had a father to be thankful for; Her father in heaven. With sudden realization, she run to her room when she got home, knelt by her bed to wish Him happy fathers’ day for the very first time.

Our father in heaven,

You are indeed our father down here on earth. It is a mystery how you can father so many and yet find a special place in each heart. Today is the happiest day of my life because I have come to know I am not fatherless after all. If I knew this earlier, I would have rejected this notion when my friends used to tease me in school. I do not have to see you with my naked eyes to know you are there. I don’t have to hug you to know I am in your arms nor hear you with my ear to know you speak to me because your sheep hear your voice.

When my earthly dad left me at the tender age of six, he left a void in my life I thought no one could fill. I was too young to understand what was going on but I hear he left the country for greener pastures and found it in another woman’s arms, a woman who has given him children. I can still see my mother crying as she held his letter close to her heart beating her chest and cursing him aloud. I did not have to turn eighteen before knowing what a broken heart was; that picture has never left my mind. I am now twenty-three and have never seen daddy again.

If there is one thing I am grateful for, it is the way mummy accepted Jesus in her heart after the incident. I wonder what would have happened to my younger sister and I if you did not heal take away her  bitterness. Even though I was very young, I was so angry with the man who had abandoned us and brought tears to the eyes of the woman who gave birth to me.

When my mother called my sister Gloria and I some months after his departure to commit us into your hands and explained you were more than enough for us, I did not comprehend for I was too young. Childhood memories are the greatest indeed for all I felt when I thought of my dad was anger and bitterness. You know how my friends used to tease me in school referring to me as fatherless.

I was too young and defenseless to react because I was ignorant of the fact that, up there was a greater father who loved me more than anyone possibly could. I now understand the words of my mother and the impact it made in my life when she committed us to you.

When she knelt down at your feet and cried out to you to take care of us since she couldn’t raise us alone, I looked on confused but silent because the expression on her face depicted such seriousness. Your answer to her prayer is evident in our lives today.

Gloria is now in medical school and I am in Law school. How did you do this with our mother’s meager salary? Besides, she never remarried or had affairs with men. You never gave me a chance to envy those whose earthly fathers are alive because your provision, protection and power was all I needed to see me through that long rough road.

I wonder if I would have done all those odd jobs to assist my mother if I had a father. Today, I am so versatile and can try my hands on many things. My employers find me indispensable and through this, I can work part-time on a full salary to finish law school. If this favor is not the doing of a heavenly father then I do not know what it is.

You have been so good to me! Despite the beauty you have endowed me and my sister with, your grace has kept us pure and from the path of waywardness. It is sometimes a marvel to me when I see children who were supported by both parents go wayward. You have kept us disciplined and on the part of righteousness whenever we go astray.

When I look at mummy, I am even more surprised. Even though she decided not to marry again, she is so content. Still very beautiful at her age, men continue to pursue her. Her response is always the same, “the day my husband left me, I married the man up there. “Am sorry, I am a married woman.” This has always made me laugh because her determination is unbreakable. You alone can give her such strength.

There are times when I think she trusts you too much at the detriment of our lives but she reminds us that you love us more. The day Tracy was so sick at the brink of death; I remember how she stayed calm as I paced frantically at the hospital ward. When she grabbed me and told me she had committed us to you and that no loving father, would kill his own daughter, my fear vanished. True to this, Tracy is well and better than ever.

I envy such faith and hope you give me same. To trust in an unseen God with all one’s heart is more precious than silver and gold. Those times when we were sent home for school fees, guess who will provide; you. When you provided a full scholarship for Tracy to study medicine, I knew you were a good God indeed.

I have tasted several times and seen that you are good but my awe of you makes me always place you far above. I forget beyond your sovereignty is a God who is also a Father, my father. You did not leave me fatherless. You also sent me the Holy Spirit who is my helper and advocate. Life would have been unbearable.

When my friend Mandy cautioned it was sometimes better not to have a father than to have one who was abusive and irresponsible, I did not agree. I told her I preferred to have one at all cost. However, my stance was questioned when I read the domestic violence magazine. I was shocked to read about fathers who hit and sexually assaulted their own children, those who sent their children as hawkers and some so irresponsible and indescribable.

I agree now, it is better to have no father, than have one who can hurt you so much. When my dad left me, I was so broken but I have come to believe that it is all part of your plan for my life. Sometimes I am quick to dismiss painful events as an attack from the devil. I forget your verse in Jeremiah states the plans you have for me are not meant to harm me.

All this while, I did not know my assault on fathers’ day was an assault against your fatherhood. I did not think a God as big as you might care about a creature as small me; but today I have learnt. You do not only care about me; you love me to the point of sending your only begotten son to die for me so I can live eternally. This is enough evidence that you are my father.

You are the father of the fatherless and a mother of the motherless. If my mum were no more, I would see you as a mother. You are whatever I want you to be; you are amazing. My father is a healer, the great provider, my shepherd, my banner, my righteousness and my peace. He is my redeemer, my savior and my creator.

You are a king so I am a princess and the apple of your eye. You are my sufficiency so I lack no good thing. In you I live, move and have my being. I will no more act like a fatherless child. I will no more envy earthly fathers because I have found much more in you.

You look at my nakedness and I do not run to hide in shame for you have taken away my shame. You have given me many friends up above who are more than those against me down here on earth. What more can I ask for? Who can take your place? No one! You are irreplaceable.

If I have never referred to you as my father, I am sorry. Daddy, dad, papa, father, that’s who you are to me. Today is fathers’ day and I want to tell you this, happy Fathers’ Day. I love you daddy. Happy fathers’ day! happy fathers’ day! happy fathers’ day!



One God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.


And call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven.


Have we not all one Father? Has not one God created us? Why then are we faithless to one

PSALM 68:5

Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation.

ISAIAH 63:16

For you are our Father, though Abraham does not know us, and Israel does not acknowledge us; you, O Lord, are our Father, our Redeemer from of old is your name.


Do you agree with Christine that we can make the fatherhood of God very real in our lives?

Who do you think is a child of God?

In your opinion, who qualifies to be a parent?

How does the knowledge of having God as a parent boost our confidence in a world where loneliness abound?

Are you so in awe of God to the extent that you ignore his tenderness as a parent?



NB: This is a story is purely fictional and a result of my active imaginations. It is unrelated to any person dead or alive; any such resemblance is purely coincidental.

Doctor Cindy Nelson is a successful pediatrician blessed with a loving husband and two beautiful daughters. To the outside world, she appears to have it all. Her colleagues and loved ones greatly admire how she perfectly combines her spiritual, family and work life. Unfortunately, within her soul is a cancer that has been eating at her for several years. An inward pain carefully concealed by her outward appearance. At a younger age, she had dumped her baby in the school bin and had no idea whether he lived or died.Remembering the act robs her of the joy she has found in her family. It is only when she lays the past to rest that she can truly be happy. As a yearly ritual, she cries out to God from the depths of her soul on her son’s birthday. She knows someway somehow, He alone could give her the peace of mind she desperately needs to move on in the future.

It is me again God,

I am here because of the same issue; it’s about my baby or should I say my son? He is no longer a baby at 14. Today is his birthday. It’s been 14 long years without him. I wonder if he is okay. Please give me a sign he is alive and well. The other day when I went to the market, my heart beat as I saw that handsome young boy and wondered if he was the one. My disappointment knew no bounds when he turned around only for me to discover it was a figment of my imagination. How many times have I made a fool of myself like this? How long will this torture last? Oh, had I known is always alas. I know this uncertainty will one day end.

God, I know this is a sin I have confessed, time without number. However, can I ever forget what I did? Just when I feel it is all in the past, the memory comes back as strongly as if it were yesterday. These days, I remember him so much, especially since the doctor confirmed I might no longer have children after my surgery. Thank you for giving me two beautiful girls. Oh, how their father wishes for a son and my girls wish they had a brother. Maybe one day, I will have the courage to tell them the truth. Somewhere out there is the brother they long for.

Protect him oh God, remember him for I don’t know whether he is alive or died. Whether he has three square meals each day as I enjoy with my family, is unknown to me. Whether he is educated or not and if he knows what I did to him are questions I yearn answers to. Grief, torture, pain, torment all in one are what I feel with this uncertainty I put myself through. Perhaps abortion would have been a safer alternative, for then I would have known he was in your bosom. That he was glowing with purity and free of this cruel world.

However, abortion has its own repercussion I didn’t have the strength to endure. At least I console myself I did not snap the life out of him. If I had abstained from sex as preached time without number, I would not be carrying this cross today. Though I was in church, I had not accepted you yet as my lord and personal savior. I was just going through the motions. What was I going to do with a baby at the age of 18 when I had just entered the university? How was I to face the church in which my parents were the founders?

My dad would have surely thrown me unto the street as I had seen him do to my elder sister, Ingrid. Who would have helped me out? My son, my baby! Even when I decided to risk it all, the rejection from Dominic my then boyfriend was too much for me to handle. Who is responsible? Those words still echo in my ears with anguish. I wonder if Dominic knows what plaques my mind so many years down the line. He never once looked back when he left my room, after claiming he knew nothing about my pregnancy. If he has escaped this torment, then this world is unfair to women indeed. I cannot put my hand on what is worse, to throw away my baby or to picture every boy of his age as my son. The guilt of dumping my baby boy into the university trashcan still weighs me down after all these years.

God, please forgive me! May the filth I dumped him into no more soil his innocent body. His new body given from above, which I condemned to the worst faith, was undeserving of any living being. You alone were in my room the day I single-handedly delivered my boy into a world he chose not to be. Oh, the pain and danger I put myself through! Thank you for seeing me through. It is a miracle no one suspected I was pregnant. What would I have done? Maybe I should have spoken up and damned the consequences, because silence is not always golden. My stomach had been so small and I am grateful I had a room to myself.

Those biology books demonstrating how to self-deliver your own baby seemed impossible but came in handy. If I hadn’t rushed myself to the hospital out of campus after getting rid of him, I would surely have been dead. Where did I find such strength? It was a miracle not to bleed to death. Now I know you were there watching over me from above. Your angels gathered before my invisible eyes as they helped bring my boy into this world.

Even though I had lied to the midwife that I had a miscarriage, the suspicious look  in her experienced eyes told me she knew. I keep asking myself why she said nothing as she cleaned me up and attended to me. Her eyes were kind and I felt it was you looking at me. If I did not run away, she would have turned me in. The memory is so vivid and still causes my heart to pound. I wonder what his name is. I only remember him as misery, for that is all I could think of when I thought of him at the time. Now I think of him with different emotions from joy to sadness, anger and bitterness. My Boy! Today he is 14 and wherever he is, I hope you have kept him safe and sheltered as you have done for me. May I starve if he is hungry if that will feed him somehow. Let me feel his pain when he is sad. When the story comes out one day, please defend me oh lord. I will rather not see him again than see hatred in his eyes.

If I had not dumped him in a dustbin, the story may not have been too bad. Thank you for sending the university nurse to his aid that dawn and saving his life. I do not know what transpired after or where he is now. However, I know we shall meet again, in this world or the next. Oh, Lord let it be in this world. It is a mystery how I kept this secret to myself all these years. The heart of man is desperately wicked indeed. I know you have given me a good man but I can never bring myself to tell him. I am afraid he will see me differently and may not be able to forgive me. Only you have the power to forgive. Wrecking my marriage with this secret will not only affect me but my two innocent children. No! I cannot tell him. This secret is for your ears only because you already observed it with your eyes.

Take away the sorrow from my heart and let me glow in the feel of another year added to his life, if he is alive. To think he may be dead is the greatest pain I can imagine and even my labor pains cannot compare. God, let him be alive and bring happiness to another, as you wanted him to bring to me. I know you gave me the gift of a bold birthmark on his cheeks identical to mine that no one can miss. Yes! One day soon, if it is your will, we shall reunite. That uncommon identity mark will be my proof of his identity. Oh how I love you, my son. God please let him know this, if there is a way you can.

I can never forget the way his beautiful big eyes looked at me as if to say, why mummy? Don’t you love me? I am cold; please take me out of here! I am still surprised he did not cry until I walked way. I was so scared of someone seeing me. Could he have been protecting me even then? His little hand had clutched to my finger with his faint strength as if to say, please mummy, don’t go! Please, we will make it. Oh God, do you remember how I wept in shame and pain as my breasts dripped their own share of tears from the breast milk you had graciously provided for him? Only once did I allow him to suckle my breast to satisfaction. I wonder whether another wet mother filled my place.

The shame and guilt I felt the next day was nothing compared to what I had done. You know how the news spread like wildfire. The wicked curses and insults hurled at the culprit cut deeper into my emotional wounds. I thank you for your grace and mercy. As I joined the rumors for fear of being exposed, I was unaware I pointed an invisible finger at myself. My baby, my boy where are you now? God please tell him I love him now, I was just but a girl who stupidly thought I was a woman. Several years down the line, I now realize one can never be too grown or too wise.

If there is something I am confident about, it is your love for children. Jesus once said; let the children come unto me for theirs is the kingdom of God. I may be his mother, but I am not his God. I may Love him but not as much as you do. You alone demonstrated great love when you sent your only begotten son to die so I might live. Thus, I have the assurance of his safety in you for my arms are too short to reach out to him wherever he is. Nonetheless, your arms surround him daily. Bless my boy as you have blessed me, despite my wickedness. Assure me it is well with Him and my mind will be at peace, leaving him in your care.

If any good came out of this, it was that I accepted you into my heart out of my loneliness and grief. My God, my best friend and my confidant; thank you for saving me. No matter how he turns out, let him accept you as I have. I will never cease praying for his salvation as I do for my girls. Thank you that the plans you had for him while still in my womb were not as wicked as I had for him. Any time I felt him kick against the walls of my womb, my thoughts were murderous. But his safety was your concern. For your word says the plans you have for him are prosperous and not harmful. No wonder I was unable to harm him. It was not in my power to do so. Make him the best in everything he does and may my prayers of intercession answer his every need.

One day, I will speak to my husband and my girls. I know I have been telling you this every year but it is easy to say than to do. The time is not right and my courage fails me. If I should ever meet him alive, I will be sure to spill the beans to the world, no matter the consequences. But if I do not meet him according to your will, I will wait for the day I lay on my dying bed. This way, I can escape the look of shock and disdain from my loving husband and two adorable girls who believe mummy can do no wrong.

Then, you will receive me in your arms for you alone have the power to forgive. If you have forgiven me, who am I not to forgive myself? I can go on with life confidently though I will not cease praying for him. Thank you so much for his life whether here or in your bosom. Until 11 March, when I come to thank you for my son’s life again, it is bye for now on this topic. Please do let him know someone loves him and that someone is me, His mother. Amen.


Psalm 6

1 LORD, do not rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath. 2 Have mercy on me, LORD, for I am faint; heal me, LORD, for my bones are in agony. 3 My soul is in deep anguish. How long, LORD, how long? 4 Turn, LORD, and deliver me; save me because of your unfailing love. 5 Among the dead no one proclaims your name. Who praises you from the grave? 6 I am worn out from my groaning. All night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears. 7 My eyes grow weak with sorrow; they fail because of all my foes. 8 Away from me, all you who do evil, for the LORD has heard my weeping.
9 The LORD has heard my cry for mercy; the LORD accepts my prayer. 10 All my enemies will be overwhelmed with shame and anguish; they will turn back and suddenly be put to shame.


Do you think like the psalmist, Dr. Cindy Nelson deserves God’s compassion after what she did?

How does God’s restoration or forgiveness cure those who are sick at heart?

Why is it so difficult for Dr. Nelson to come out with the truth, will you have done otherwise?

Would you have forgiven yourself if you were in her shoes?

If God forgives us, should we resist forgiving our own sins no matter how terrible?

Like her boyfriend and her father, how do we sometimes contribute to the poor decisions others make?