Christian Fiction: The Past

Your life is perfect. Absolutely, completely, totally, honestly perfect. 

You have a beautiful, wonderful wife with whom you have three amazing children who are interested in God. You basically don't have to struggle to tell your children to believe in God or answer why they need to believe in God. It's like God Himself structure their brains in such a way that the moment they land on Earth, they just start believing in Him.

You're a pastor of one of the great churches and your ministry is with couples. So, your church has a variety of young couples, old couples, singles and divorced. 

In everything, everyone finds their peace. The wounded at heart are getting healing, the brokenhearted are getting their pieces together, the almost-broken marriages are getting life back in their homes.

In all, your church is a blessing to many. The ministry is a testimony to many and so, it's not difficult to understand why people troop in every Sunday like ants attracted to sugar. 

Then, that day, that Sunday, you mount the pulpit, ready to give a teaching. 

People are ready. Pens and books are already on their legs, their minds are at alert, their five senses are alive. They're waiting to receive teachings that will help their marriage, their courtship and their single life. 

You mutter a prayer and ask the church to bow for prayer. You pray and everyone mutter "Amen". 

Then, you start teaching. Wonderful lessons with scriptural backing. Questions are answered. Understanding is renewed. Minds are opened. 

You look at your wife who is sitting at the front pew and you fill joy in your heart. She's really a gift to you and that's is why you call her "Ebun". She has been supportive, helpful and amazing. You see joy in her eyes. You know it's there because you also feel it.

Read: Christian Story - Love (Part I)

The teachings continue and you stop at a point because there is no more time to continue. The congregation groan but you promise you will continue with the series the following Sunday.

You share the grace and the love confession and everyone starts moving out to their houses but you know many will definitely stay back.

You stand close to the altar to shake those that come to greet you. A pat here, a smile there, a friendly hit there, a little dance here. Everyone loves you.

And then, you see her. You can't believe your eyes. You close them and open them again and you confirm that the woman standing few meters away from you is actually Annabelle, the woman of your youthful love. 

You stutter because you can't believe she is actually there. You extend your hand to shake her and she scoff at you, saying her mind:

"It's ironic how you can stand over there and preach love and marriage to people when you destroyed me. It's ironic how you stand over there and preach truthfulness when you broke it with me. I can't forgive you for this, Stephen. 

Your daughter, our daughter is at home and needs her father. I didn't have the abortion that year. I have forgiven you for the mistake we committed years ago but I can't deny my daughter of fatherly love when she has a father.

And one more thing, I can't be a mistress. You marry me legally and my daughter, our daughter and I will live together with you. If you fail to do that, the media houses will love good gist and I can give them just that."

She turns and walks away before you can say a word. Luckily for you, no one hears her because she is the last person. 

You look at your wife standing at the children department and sigh. You look at the woman who is leaving the church and groan.

You look up and mutter;

"God, help me."



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