Divinity's Epistle

Eight months ago, I received what I believed was a dream come true - an answered prayer. I was elected as the Sisters’ Coordinator in my campus fellowship, and it felt like destiny unfolding before my eyes. This wasn’t a random appointment. In my second year, God had already whispered the possibility to my heart. And for two years, I prayed almost daily for my sisters. Their pain pierced me. Their stories stirred something deep within me - a burden, a call, and a compassion so raw that I often found myself dreaming of a women’s foundation where I could listen, counsel, and heal. Even before the office came, many sisters trusted me. They came to me with their wounds, and I knew I carried grace for this. But I also believed the influence would be more potent if it flowed through the structure of leadership. So when the interview came, I boldly declared, "I’d gladly serve my sisters." I had my vision clear, my plans outlined, and the love of my sisters - what could go wrong? I s...

There I was again - fasting, praying, crying. It was the sixth day. My lips were dry from tongues unceasing, and my eyes sore from tears that had no timetable. Yet, the heavens remained quiet. No answer. No shift. Just silence. “For how much longer will you accuse Me of unfaithfulness when you've not asked the right question? For how much longer will those tears linger when you're not praying aright? ” His voice interrupted my grief. “What? But Lord... I pray long in tongues over this matter. I cry. I wait. What else should I be doing?” He replied with a gentleness that pierced deeper than any rebuke: “ Yes, you pray in tongues... but you're not letting Me pray through you. You come with your script. You refuse to yield. You do the tongues and walk away unchanged. Unbroken.” Unbroken. That word lingered like a verdict. You see, I wasn’t battling an infirmity like Paul nor facing barrenness like Hannah. I was stuck. Desperately stuck. And what made it worse was that I was st...