I Missed It But God Didn't

“Treasure of my heart and of my soul…
In my weakness You are merciful.
Redeemer of my past and present wrongs,
Holder of my future years to come…”

Tears were all the expression I could give that day as I sat in my room, my guitar resting in my hands. That one language only Abba could fully understand was, surprisingly, the only one I could speak in that moment- tears.

I had shed more tears in the last three months than I had in a very long time- tears of shame, of feeling overwhelmed, of helplessness.

But this time, the tears seemed to speak a different language.

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Uche- my close friend and brother- had just walked me to my house, hugged me, and turned to go. But somehow this hug felt abnormal today. It seemed to awaken all the “good feeling” hormones in my body, and I suddenly realised: I was a woman.

We had hugged countless times before, but this one felt different.
What had changed? Probably my physiological cycle, I thought. And so, I dismissed it.

This feeling lingered for just over two days, but I knew it could never be serious.
You might wonder why I treated it so lightly.
I was so sure sexual sins would never be an issue for me.
In my walk with God, I had seen how He helped me in this particular area that seemed to ravage my generation. Many times, I didn’t even understand why it was a big deal for others.
I had even counselled quite a lot of teenagers and youths on this same subject- and watched some of them walk free.

I didn’t know my day was upon me.

That little spark I ignored quietly began to grow, though I didn’t realise it at first.
Every time the Holy Ghost brought it to my heart to carefully tread with UC, I dismissed it: “Even if the devil enters my head one day, the UC I know will slap it off my head.”
I trusted him that much too.

I even confided in a senior friend who gave me the same counsel, but it felt “all so cautious for no reason.”
In fact, he had asked that we stop talking after fellowship and that UC shouldn’t walk me home anymore.
That felt “not rational.”
Everything I talked about with UC was purely kingdom. Nothing more!
I even knew sisters who were closer to him than I was- why should I start thinking there was something dangerous here?

It just felt irrational.
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“Ma, I noticed I became very teary every time I prayed in my room.
Moreso, I noticed I felt like praying many times in a day.
I don’t usually have concrete prayer points; I just feel like asking God to show mercy…”

My mentor looked at me gently:
“So mercy is not so concrete a prayer point?”

“I’m sorry ma. I just didn’t feel it’s so much to spend many minutes crying over, for many days.
I literally cry with intensity until I’m drained.
Ma, the worse is that I’ve prayed this for everyone around me, but I’ve not gotten any news of a situation that calls for it.
It feels like I’m wasting precious tears and prayer prompt…” I said

“The Holy Ghost hijacks your emotions to pray through you,” she said.
“It’s not your business why He’s doing what He’s doing. He’s also not responsible to show you who you’re praying for. Your job is to yield and let Him pray.”

That taught me a small but deep lesson about being an intercessor.
The only thing I didn't know was that this intercessor was interceding for herself. I soon realised it though.
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“Why are you doing this again, when you said it was a mistake the other time and promised never to do it again?” I blurted out in anger.

“At this point I have to tell you the truth, Sandra. You’re very emotionally appealing to me, and I can’t resist you.
I can’t promise this won’t happen again because I want it.
I want it with you. Let’s just call it cordiality,” UC said calmly.

Your guess is as good as mine.
I walked out- disappointed, angry, speechless at what UC had just said.
I was sure I wouldn’t go near him again.
But that was a lie.

A few days later, pity crept in.
Maybe I judged him too quickly, I thought.
Maybe I should understand what he’s going through. Perhaps I could be that answer he needed to walk free.

That was the rope that yoked me into trying to “help” him.
We spent more time talking about our sexualities (so I could understand him) until I became very vulnerable.

Before I knew it, I wanted to go and meet with him.
Those visits were not without one mistaken touch and apology.
I was drowning in the awareness those touches brought, but at that point, I had become too weak to fight.
All I knew was that I didn’t want to sin against God- but every other guard regarding him had fallen.

I had thought if the silly thought ever crossed my mind, UC would slap it off.
But here I was, lost in my own world- and the one who should slap it off was the very one drawing me away.
The weapon fashioned against me…
I cried bitterly.
I felt stuck.

I confided in a few sisters.
You probably know what followed:
“Sandra, disengage! Walk away! Block him!”

Lol…
That felt like the most unrealistic quest in life.
I couldn’t imagine that I had counselled people in this same subject- and for the first time, I saw how weak those words could be to a drowning soul.

I knew now that it wasn’t them who walked free; it was the Lord who helped them.

For the first time, I realised I really could be caught up in immorality.
I saw how easy it was to sink.
I journaled daily on how lost I felt in all of this.
I wept every day.
I attended meetings weekly- and while people prayed for other “more important” things, I bowed my head and cried:
“Lord, sin lies at my door. Have mercy.”

It became my mantra for weeks.
I whispered it during lectures, postings, even while chatting with UC.

If no help comes quickly it will be a matter of time and I'd satisfy this appetite that was looming all over me. Who will deliver me from this body of voracious appetite?

Now I understood why the Holy Ghost caused me to make those prayers months ago while I still could. Prayers became more burdensome as the days passed and tears of helplessness replaced it.
Sin laid at my door. I wasn't sure how long it would take before it seeps all in, into my life.
I knew I needed mercy. Tons of it.
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Tears still flowed as I suddenly felt a warm blanket wrap around me.
It felt like forever. The deepest emotional moment I had ever had.
I knew He was there. Abba.
He hugged me.

He seemed to say:
“I understood even from the beginning. I’ve watched till now.”

Fresh tears poured out.
Here was the One I had hurt the most in all this- and yet, He was the One loving me most gently.
Not judging. Not angry. Still emotional. Still caring.

“…I let you go through all these because you needed every bit of it.
You needed to learn to trust Me more than you trust yourself.
No one is infallible- even the best of men.
And you needed compassion for the broken ones I will send to you.
The flesh is strong, and you need My breath to truly overcome"

His embrace left my heart calm and at peace.
My jealous Lover had come to claim His bride- and lust had to give way, permanently.

I still pray for UC today- but from a distance.

Today, with my guitar in hand, singing to the Treasure of my heart, I couldn't stop the tears that freely gave way.
Looking back now, I see how insensitive I was to the warnings:
The Holy Spirit’s nudges.
Mentors’ counsel.
Prayer burdens that seemed “irrational.”

It was mercy that kept me.
And seeing how this experience birthed a deeper walk with the Holy Ghost, and a more intentional ministry to the broken ones… I can only say that:
I missed it- but God didn’t!