Dear Jesus,

My day would have been perfect if not for the major bump we encountered in the road.

*Sighs* I love Sundays so much that now I feel all the remaining days of the week should be cancelled and only Sunday should exist.

I mean, there will be no school, no fear of what Genevie and her crew can try next, and no heart attack about the coming exams.

Well, this morning, I woke up, thanks be to you. I actually woke up earlier than usual. The clock read 2:30am, but I couldn't go back to sleep.

After tossing about on my bed for some time, I started worshipping you. Your presence, I felt it.

I slid into prayers of intercession. I prayed for Lydia and the other orphans at Arrows Children Orphanage. As I prayed, compassion swelled in my heart for the remaining orphans all over the world who are naked, hungry, homeless, and abused.
I couldn't stop my tears at the thought of them. I prayed with all my heart, asking you to watch over those children.

While I was praying, a vision of an execution hanging rope flashed through my spiritual eyes. It was so clear. Almost immediately, I knew I had to pray against a suicidal spirit. The urgency was so much that it pressed on my spirit like a burden, even more intense than what I felt while I was interceeding for Dad on that fateful day.

My prayers translated into groanings. It was like what I imagine women in labour pass through.

I pleaded to you for mercy, crying for all the people I could think of, asking you to prevent them from taking their own lives.
That your Holy Spirit should go and minister to any heart that the accuser has been ranting lies to. I kept on for about thirty minutes, until I felt a slight release.

My Bible reading was from the book of Lamentations 2:19.
"Arise, cry out in the night, at the beginning of the watches! Pour out your heart like water before the presence of the Lord! Lift your hands to him for the lives of your children, who faint for hunger at the head of every street."

What other confirmation did I need? I believed you had heard my prayers.

By the time I was done, I realized the time had travelled faster than I thought. 6:16am! And we had to be at the church by 7:00am. You know, my dad's the senior pastor and all that. I could already hear the rustling of my parents downstairs.

I made a quick dash for the shower.

Mom came to knock on my door while I was in the shower. She must have been thinking I was still in dreamland. How wrong, Mom! If only you knew how long I'd been awake.

"My star", Mom said, "are you up?"

"I'm awake Mom. Will meet you in a jiffy," I yelled over the sound of the running shower in reply.

Hurriedly, I put on my clothes: a straight, knee-length, black skirt and white top with the words 'Jesus Saves' inscribed on it in bold, red letters.
To complement that get-up, I donned my red-and-black coloured high-heeled sandals.
I wore golden cross earrings, a cross pendant on my neck, and my special golden wristwatch which my parent got me as a present on my fifteenth birthday.

I packed my Bible, jotter and pen into my black tote bag, and literally raced out my room to the ground floor of the house. I headed to the dining table in our kitchen.

"Hey, hey, hey! Easy. At this rate, you're gonna trip and hurt yourself," Dad said.

He was wearing a black, three-piece suit on a striped, red shirt. Mom, who was seated opposite him, looked absolutely gorgeous in her simple black gown and red fascinator. All three of us wore the same three colours.
I made a mental note to get us together for a group picture later as I pecked Dad and Mom on their cheeks and greeted them.

I sat to catch my breath from my mini-race. After that, I ate my milk-laden custard and fruits breakfast so fast that I'm sure a starved lion would have been ashamed.

We got to church in record time. 7:06am. Whew!

Mrs Carey, the church secretary, Pastor Henry, Mr Faithful and other ministers and workers were already present. We prayed for about thirty minutes for your presence to take charge of the service.

Pastor Henry who was leading the prayer session, paused the prayer and said the Holy Spirit wanted us to pray against death, particularly in the form of a suicidal spirit, operating in the life of any member of the church.

Wow! That was the same prayer burden you gave me this morning, Lord. I was simply shocked at the fact.

Well, pray I did. We all did. The burden which still lingered in me slowly slid off my chest.

I taught the kids Sunday school. The topic was 'Love Your Neighbor'. Those kids can kill someone with questions. Take for example, Paul (Mr Faithful's third child. A six-year-old lad). He asked me if he must still love his elder sister who took his own share of the sweet their dad got them yesterday. His said sister, Mariam, a chubby, ten-year-old, girl, was glaring daggers at him from where she sat. It was a funny scene watching the siblings banter amidst themselves.

Cat (I've told you about her before) asked if we are to love drunkards, murderers, and the likes.

It was only through your help that I managed to give them satisfactory answers. They rained the questions on me like a meteor shower.

The time given for the Sunday school was barely enough. Thankfully there's going to be a continuation of the lesson next Sunday.

The main service was very full of your presence. I enjoyed every bit of it. The message Daddy preached titled 'Holy Fire' helped to whet my appetite for the Holy Spirit.

When the service was over, we stayed behind as usual. Dad was trapped among a set of members who were greeting him and talking to him.

His eyes locked with mine as he scanned the auditorium. He mouthed "Save me" and sent a pitiful look my way. I smiled back at him sympathetically, and gave him a thumbs up.

Mom finished up her meeting with the choir and moved outside to make a call.
She came back in with an expression on her face I couldn't quite decipher, and whispered into Dad's ear something I couldn't make out.

Whatever it was seemed urgent as Dad hurriedly went over to Pastor Henry and gestured for me to follow them to our jeep in the parking lot of the church. I was still in the dark as to what was going on.

Dad drove, and Mom briefed us about the situation on ground. She had been calling all the women she noticed didn't come to church, as was her custom.
She called a particular mother of two girls, Mrs Trimon, and was alarmed by the sobs that greeted her on the phone.

Mrs Trimon informed Mom that her first daughter, Felicia, had tried killing herself by overdosing on a sedative drug.

Mrs Trimon had gone to wake Felicia to get ready for church service. She tapped her multiple times, and even shook her at a point, but Felicia wasn't budging at all. It was then she noticed a suicide note in her clenched fist.

She raised an alarm.
Her husband, Mr Trimon, and the little sister, Patricia, raced the unconscious Felicia to First Hope hospital. That was where we were headed to.

I gasped as realisation dawned on me. After Mr Henry said his part of how God prompted him to pray against suicide, I also related my own experience to the astonishment of everyone.
Our only solace was in the fact that we believed you had answered our prayers.

We got there. Patricia was still in her Pj's, in a dishevelled state, which I guessed was as a result of not having a bath, and the shock of the incident. I went over to comfort her.

Mr Trimon's face was grave while his wife's eyes were rimmed with tears, and her face was ashen. Upon inquiry, they told us that Felicia was still in surgery.

The doctor had said a dangerously high amount of Cyproheptadine, a strong sedative, was what was ingested into her system and was shutting down her organs. They had to resort to an emergency surgery in a bid to remove the excess and save her life. We continued earnest prayers for Felicia.

A few minutes later, the surgeon in charge came out and said the surgery was successful and that she was alive.
They succeeded in removing ninety percent of the drug from her body. The rest will have to wear out with time.

However, they met with a shocking discovery. Felicia is six weeks pregnant!

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Hello! I'm really sorry for the late update😔. I had a little issue logging in to Wattpad.
I wrote this chapter by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit🕊️. This chapter is dedicated to Him.
I want to let you know that Jesus loves you😘. Don't permit the devil😈 to whisper lies to you. Whatever the situation maybe. Maybe you're depressed, or rejected. Remember Jesus loves you so much that he died for you🪔. Don't let his sacrifice for you be in vain.💓💓💓