28/03/2023
Last year, I received a mail from an international organization. I had been selected for a three month program. This was an opportunity I’d been praying and hoping to receive for some years now.
I remember screaming for joy in my home office, jumping around like a child high on sugar rush. It was exactly what I needed to push my career forward.
Hubby returned from work in the evening and I was waiting by the veranda, shouting ‘God has done it!’ as he climbed down from the car. Even my two-year old daughter squealed in delight even though she didn’t understand what was going on.
I ran into his arms. ‘Baby, I was selected!’
He grinned broadly when I showed him the mail but the smile disappeared immediately.
‘Sweetheart, you can’t go for this program. It’s clashing with the church’s annual convention and our branch is the host. The Senior Pastor and the team from Lagos will be here. I need you around.’
So much for being a Pastor’s wife. ‘What are you saying?’
‘You’ll go another time.’ He said with an air of finality.
I was boiling at this point. ‘This is as important to me as the convention is to you. I can follow the convention online for goodness sake. Tell them I’m not around. Sis Olabisi and Sis Aderemi can stand in for me.’
My husband opened his mouth to say something but closed it. He sat quietly on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to say.
‘I will travel to the United States and there is nothing anybody can do about it. This is so unfair. You know how important this is to me. I may never get this opportunity again.’
‘Who says you won’t get another opportunity. I said I need you for this convention and I have explained why this is peculiar. I am not releasing you.’
I stormed out of the bedroom to the living room, fuming.
How could I have married an insensitive man. He had the guts to say he is not releasing me. This was a fully funded program, there was no way I was going to miss it.
I wished I was a single lady again. I could do whatever I wanted with my life without a man telling me what to do.
I was so vexed that I didn’t make dinner for my husband. My daughter and I ate the remaining rice I’d prepared in the morning.
‘No dinner for me?’ He asked.
I was still greatly upset. ‘I don’t care what your opinions are. I will take that trip. Before you married me, you knew my dreams and vision. You knew the kind of woman I was.’
‘Have I ever stopped you from pursuing your goals?’ My husband retorted. ‘Was I not the one who encouraged you to pursue that collaboration with PFI? Have I not been supportive enough? I ask for this one thing and you throw the times I stood by you. Fine. Go if that’s what you want.’
It was what I wanted and I was going to get it.
‘Let me tell you, that submission part of the Bible, Paul didn’t quite get it.’ A colleague friend said to me. ‘Remember he was a bachelor. He was talking about something he had not experienced. In this modern time, that scripture can’t work. I am a Christian too and I know what I’m saying. You better go for that program. This is your last chance. You’ll be clocking 36 next year and that opportunity will be forever closed.’
I sent a mail accepting the offer. I began to get set for my trip. When I went to discuss with my mum about taking care of my daughter, she looked into my eyes.
‘Is your husband in support of this?’
‘Sure.’ I lied and got jittery immediately. I wanted to leave the house before my mother found the right answer with her spiritual eyes.
‘You are not telling me the truth. I can sense it.’
‘Nobody can stop me, mum. It’s just three months for God’s sake!’
‘Wives, submit to your husbands-‘
‘Mum, please! If he loves me enough, he will obey his own part of the scripture. Husbands, love your wives. He is so selfish and self-centered. I don’t want to hear anything from you. If you decide not to take in Pearl, I’ll find someone else to take care of her.’
You see, while this was happening, I’d completely stop praying and reading my Bible. I was afraid of talking to the Lord.😔😔
Three days before my trip, I was restless and angry. Hubby and I had not talked about it since then but our relationship was tense.
I sat alone in my home office, battling with different types of emotions. I’ve always had an intimate relationship with God and I missed talking to Him. I needed him right now with this turmoil in my heart.
After two hours of worshipping and praying, I stood up and went to the room and began to unpack.
‘I’m not traveling again.’ I said to my husband.
He sat there and looked at me for a long time. ‘Babe, you can go. I’ll sort things out here.’
I shook my head. ‘It’s okay. God will provide another opportunity for me. I’ll send them a mail tonight.’
When he hugged me from behind, at first, I wanted to push him away but I forced myself to relax and enjoy his warmth. Trust me when I say, acting contrary to your feelings can be really hard.
Afterwards, I got to work and began preparation for the convention.
Few days after the convention, mum called to say my sister had put to birth. It had been a difficult birth and she had to be with her.
The day mum travelled, I was in my home office working on a presentation at about 1am when I saw an image in my mind of a dead child. A burden hit me.
I stepped away from the table, scared, and began to pray.
Whose child was dying?
As I prayed, I had a strong nudge to check Pearl who was sleeping in her room with her nanny.
I rushed to her side and my daughter had stopped breathing!
I ran back to my bedroom and tapped my husband. We sped back to her room and carried her to the hospital. In the car, I placed her on my laps and laid my hands on her and prayed with tears pouring down my face.
‘Pearl, when God gave you to me, He didn’t include a covenant of death. I stand in the authority of Jesus and I speak life to your body! Open your eyes right now.’
‘Pearl, open your eyes, in the name of Jesus!’
We drove into the hospital. As a nurse rushed towards our car, she opened her eyes.
‘Mummy.’
Our family doctor who was my hubby’s best friend was already standing by the veranda waiting for us.
‘Mummy, where am I?’
I had covered my face with my hands, sobbing profusely. ‘Thank you Jesus.’
Tests were carried out on my daughter. They found nothing. She was fine and strong.
Yesterday made it exactly a year since that incident happened.
‘What happened that night with Pearl?’ I asked my husband. ‘I still can’t believe it.’
The devil is a bastard, was all my husband could say.
So many thoughts ran through my mind.
What if I had stubbornly done my own thing and mum had left Pearl with my cousins who lived in the house? Would I have been mourning the demise of daughter?
Was it worth following seemingly legitimate reasons against clear instructions from God’s Word?
Fiction
****
Watch out for voices that say, ‘it’s not that deep.’
Watch out for areas you are beginning to compromise
The devil is in the grey… He’ll give you reasons that seem legitimate but contradict God’s word. ‘Did God really say?’
You are strengthened by the Spirit to walk in conformity with God’s word. 🙏🙏
Ife Grace
