Dear Jesus,

After taking my bath, I took a few minutes to read my Bible. I don't know when I drifted off to sleep. I hardly slept a wink before we were all summoned for the general morning devotion by 6:00 am. It was brief, and I fought drowsiness half the time. But, when I was able to snap out of it, I was blessed by the brief charge that reminded us of the real forces we were tackling when it came to the business of saving souls. The minister also recounted the story of the events after your resurrection when You appeared to Your disciples and gave them the great commission.

It gets so easy to be caught up in the deceitfulness of a nominal lifestyle. We believers so easily forget our primary assignment of going into the world and preaching to the nations. Lord, I am asking for grace to never ever forget my true mission here on earth, to represent You and decimate all strongholds of the enemy in the hearts of men.

The day promised to be extra busy. When the full schedule for the day was read out, I winced, most especially for the welfare unit and paramedical team (of which, being a medical student, I was automatically enlisted in).

But first, we had to go for an early morning evangelism. We were grouped into four batches to go for a morning cry in four cardinal directions from our base. Each group had a main speaker and an interpreter. To amplify the message, each group used a Public Address System.

The rest of us clanged bells and shook tambourines in rhythm to our choruses. When the lead speaker began preaching, I made sure to pray in tongues under my breath that You would sow a viable seed in the heart of every listener.

Some people who were already up and about in the slum neighborhood, looking bleary eyed, peered out their doors and windows to look at us. Some of them got tracks and a personal invitation to the free medical care program that would begin by noon.

After about an hour of trekking, singing and preaching the gospel to those who had ears to listen, we all went back to our base. While everyone else clamoured to have their baths and freshen up, I comfortably huddled in my sleeping corner and prayed in the Spirit, under my blanket.

After I was done, I tried calling Uluir's line. She picked at the second ring. Her voice sounded exhausted, like she didn't sleep all night long. That, I could understand.

After enduring my barrage of enquiries, she assured me that, though Pastor Daniel was still unconscious, he was stable and the doctors were monitoring his vitals. She didn't go into the details, but from her tone, I knew the accident must have been pretty severe.

I don't know what spurred the urge in me, but I suddenly felt it strongly within me that I should stand in the gap for Pastor Daniel. I don't exactly know him personally, but I respect Pastor Daniel, even more so ever since I became aware that my mentor is engaged to him.
I know he is an anointed minister, and he has a wonderful sense of humour too. His grasp of Your word is likewise commendable.

The story of You healing the centurion's servant with just Your word came to my mind. And You said that we would do greater works than You did. Since I was assured that the accident was a failed orchestration from the pit of hell, I knew this was a place I could fight the enemy and totally thwart his plans.

At first, I felt the sprouts of guilt and doubt in my mind. Who did I think I was to pray for my fellowship president? I mean, in terms of spiritual ranking, I was definitely unqualified. Besides, this wouldn't be the first time someone somewhat close to me was involved in a terrible accident, which could have been averted if only I'd been more spiritually attuned, if only I'd taken my role as an intercessor more rigorously.

Thankfully, like a warm tide, memories of what You've done for, to and through me since I met You washed away the nasty feelings. It was Your will that Pastor Daniel would get speedy recovery. I couldn't imagine anything hurting my dear mentor, or delaying their upcoming nuptials.

Uluir had recently informed me that their wedding was going to be a humble event in her home church back in Mangrone Strait. She asked me to be a part of her small bridal train. I was so touched and excited by the prospect of being in my first official bridal train. Being a pastor's daughter means I have attended all sorts of named events with my parents, so a wedding isn't entirely foreign.

Presently, I asked Uluir to allow me to speak to Pastor Daniel since she was currently in his ward. She placed the phone on the loudspeaker. I declared words of healing into his body by faith. I sealed the testimony with Your blood. We would see which demon or principality would dare to try to hijack the flaming arrow of Your word drenched in Your lethal blood.

I promised to come visit once we got back from the outreach tomorrow. Uluir asked me to give her regards to every worker on the mission field, in case anyone asked of her whereabouts. I understood she and Pastor Daniel, being Executive Leaders in the fellowship, purposely kept their courtship low-key for many reasons. Only a few key friends along with the marriage committee and their respective families knew of their serious engagement. Wise choice, if you asked me.

About an hour after everyone was done freshening up, we had breakfast of local fried rice and fried fish. I had to commend Pris and the rest of the welfare team who spent hours preparing the massive feast with large iron pots over firewood.

My God, the food was surprisingly deliciously scrumptious. So much so that some brothers invaded the makeshift kitchen in the far end of the compound drumming on their empty plates with their spoons, while singing discordant choruses with warped lyrics to suit their demand for another serving.

It got even more hilarious when some media team members stylishly took videos of the whole scenario as well as the different positions and ways workers were devouring their foods.
Later that day, the media team would compile everything into a single video clip and send it to the fellowship group page, and the affected people would whine about how the media had destroyed their steez.

Noon arrived sooner than we expected, and we had to hurry to set up tents to house all the medical equipment and supplies we had brought along.

I was a little torn by the fact I had to be with the medics. It automatically meant I couldn't follow those assigned to go to the prison or the marketplace for evangelism.

Anyway, I'll admit it did feel fancy to wear a white branded coat with different-ink-colours pens in the breast pocket, a face masks and gloves. It gave the impression that I was a professional.

What the volunteer medic consultant had to do was pretty straightforward: Greet the patient, ask for their names and symptoms, get their vitals and give a prescription. If the case sounded like beyond a physical ailment, we would send the patient to either the counselling tent, or to the building where the prayer watchers were.
Those in the prayer unit are real spiritual giants. They held an almost nonstop prayer marathon ever since we arrived. I believe they were the fuel and oil to the outreach machinery.

I worked as an assistant to Bro Larry, a final year Pharmacy student. I was more than happy to observe his patient interaction with the elderly and illiterate patients, how fluently he conversed in their colloquial pidgin, making them feel more at ease. I noted his manner of approach as well as his medical expertise.

Asides from helping with bringing stuff, I supported with prayers in the spirit in my heart. We had heard all sorts of stories about this vicinity and had even gotten revelations about the sort of principalities that ruled this place. We, of course, had prayed heaven down to rend the powers that be, but that didn't mean we should let our guard down. Who knew if one of those sniveling demons would try to stir trouble?

I was right to put up my guard spiritually. Bro Larry was speaking to an aged woman with dark eyes when I sniffed something malevolent in the air. It was a stench so bad, like burning rubbish, that I scrunched my nose. I knew better than to interrupt since no other person seemed to be repulsed by what I smelt.

I closed my eyes and prayed in the spirit under my breath. When I opened my eyes I was hit by the overlapping of two realms.
The old woman Bro Larry had been asking questions from about her complaints of a persistent stomachache was glaring at me with bloodshot irisless eyes.
I could see tiny maggot-laced darts being hurled at me, but they hit an invisible shield and disintegrated to nothing.

Sensing movement in my peripheral vision, I darted my eyes in that direction. I saw the translucent form of Gloria, and scattered about, other angels, fighting off little gnomes who flickered in and out like phantoms.

I gasped sharply when I came out of the vision. Bro Larry glanced at me with concern and asked if I needed to take a break. I shook my head with a tight smile and said I'd be fine. He insisted I drink water at least, and I didn't protest. Perhaps dehydration was making me extra paranoid, especially with the unnerving glares the woman kept feeding me.

However, I confirmed the vision's authenticity when the old woman's squirming turned more pronounced each time Bro Larry mentioned Your name. When I moved to assist her with rolling up her sleeves so we could take her BP, she jerked up from the seat and muttered that she forgot something at home, that she would be fine. She hobbled out of the tent as quickly as she could manage.

Bro Larry shot me a perplexed look. Although I was equally stunned, I shrugged back at him in response and stifled a laugh, imagining the demon propelling that poor woman unable to bear the temperature of Your presence. I hoped she would be redeemed before it was too late, and that she would not allow herself to be manipulated by the enemy any longer.

The first patient I attended to on my own was the last person on the waning queue in front of our tent. Bro Larry said he needed to stretch his legs and get fresh air (more like steaming sunlight), so he excused himself from the tent.

My patient was a bony teenage girl with small eyes dressed in a faded orange floral gown.
I immediately noted something odd about her. She kept twitching and jerking like someone with a nervous disorder. She didn't look into my eyes, and I wondered if she was also an agent of darkness. But there was this disarming openness and brokenness about her. My spiritual sight was withheld for some reason, though this would have been a really good time to use it.

When the girl started speaking in a low tone, all her symptoms pointed to some sort of STD.
Gently, I began asking her some delicate questions. I was aghast by the horrors this girl had endured in her lifetime.
Her given name was Anniete. She was a sixteen-year-old orphan who was found near a dump site. Influenced by the raunchy environment, she was bred as a wayward street rat. She became highly promiscuous after she was raped at age thirteen.
When the orphanage taking partial care of her could no longer keep up with her shenanigans, they sent her to this juvenile correctional centre. Now, she suffered pains, insomnia and was remarkably headstrong. Of course, there was no equipment for a thorough medical test to confirm my suspicions, but I knew this girl was severely affilicted.

I told her about You as simply as I could. She said she found it hard to accept that a benevolent God existed, considering the hideous events in her life. I could feel her anger, her resistance to the idea of You. But I could also sense the desperate inner cry, something in her hoping against hope that You existed and cared for her.

I told her to just give You a try, to ask You for a sign. After a long moment of contemplating, she asked me to pray that she would sleep well at night. She said it had been over three years since she slept well at night. I prayed for her both for good sleep and an end to all the migraine and pains she suffered, believing You for the best. I gave her a prescription just for protocol purposes. Then I waved her goodbye.

A few minutes later, the medical booths were evacuated and all the volunteers prayed for ourselves and the patients, covering everyone in Your blood.

When the teams who went out to the prison and market returned, they regaled us with fantastic stories of all the wonders that happened and how many came to the knowledge of the Lord. It reminded me of the scripture where You sent out Your disciples two by two and they returned with tales of how demons and diseases cowered and fled at Your name and You told them to rather rejoice that they belonged to God's kingdom.

Of course, there was a follow-up and discipleship plan in place for new converts, and, being a part of the Evangelism unit I was privy to it. This meant I would come back to this place once or twice. I thought of all the opportunities that would avail me: bonding with Aliya's family, seeing Anniete and the other children of the Juvenile home again...

The evening open air program came faster than I had thought. I didn't even have time for a proper afternoon rest.

As the choir led people in simple choruses, and everyone clapped and sang in unison, my distress faded into nothingness. Your power was so heavy on the congregation.

Some demons began to manifest, especially aggressive ones in some of the teenagers, including Anniete, and Aliya's mom. It was chaotic. There were earsplitting shrieks and cries. Plastic chairs were flung every which way.

My heart's prayer was that You would settle each demonic possession case quickly because I noticed this was causing a distraction to the naive people in the congregation. Instead of praying, they gaped. I hastily made a prayer decreeing there would be no transference of demons to anyone else.

In the end, by Your word from the altar, all the demons were expunged to the abyss from whence they came. I saw it happen. I saw dark mists rise from the bodies of human hosts and converge into a gloomy ball. This dark orb was siphoned out of existence by an greater invisible force.

After the final benediction, all the workers converged at the hall for spontaneous worship. All my weariness faded as if I had just guzzled a Holy Ghost energy drink.

Worship swelled into praise. We danced before You in reckless abandon Davidic style. It stretched for hours late into the night but no one complained.
People who go to clubs do that to get high and forget their worries, only to have a nasty hangover the next morning, the pile of their worries crashing on them yet again.

The world may call us believers crazy. Many of us are imperfect and flawed (Did I mention the occasion when some sisters quarrelled due to bathroom usage and the Assistant Sisters' Coordinator had to intervene to settle the issue?), but we have a common hope, an unshakeable love for You. And that is what keeps us moving.

Very early the next morning after a prayer session, we began heading back to campus in batches.

This time, I left with the last batch, because I wanted to help in the clearing up. While John, Mike and the other guys in the technical, media and ushering team packed up the gadgets used and the rented chairs were picked up by the rental service, I helped with the final cleaning up of all spaces we used.

Something slightly funny happened when the final batch was returning. Of course, we sang on the bus, but because everyone was exhausted, we simply sang hymns and worship song. Road traffic officers stopped our fellowship bus, probably because we actually filled the bus to the brim, and asked for our vehicle documents.

Lord, one of the banes of the system are the civil workers who go over and beyond what they are meant to do, and I mean in a bad way. It's one of the reasons I'm happy I never really have to confront them since my itinerary is restricted to McCheyenne campus.

Long story short, we were slightly delayed, not because we didn't have our complete documents, but because we couldn't find the fire extinguisher when the officer asked us to show him. I mean, the bus was already too cramped for us to dismantle everything and look for the extinguisher.

After two delegates from our company went to discuss with the head officer while the rest of us prayed. Finally, the officer in charge agreed to let us go because we were students and because of our claim to be returning from a mission trip.

When we eventually arrived at the fellowship auditorium, most workers had gone back to their various hostels. Even my girls.
Only the EXCOs were left. They were making plans to go visit Pastor Daniel first thing tomorrow morning. But since I wasn't in their clique, I decided I would go as an individual.

I could go later, especially since I was bone tired. But something else struck my heart that I had to do. Mr Ezekiel. I'd been having an uneasy feeling ever since my thought brushed his angle. I hadn't heard any report of him since the last successful surgery.

The session was over, so I no longer had a legitimate basis to freely see the man who had been my ward. I wouldn't say we bonded. I mean, the man remained as rigid as ever, only showing me glimpses of his thawed sides on brief occasions.

Well, I concluded, it wouldn't be a bad thing to stop by and see if I could see him. Plus, I could kill multiple birds with one stone this way (sorry, birds). I needed to see Pastor Daniel, Uluir, and, if possible, Gloria alias Lori Drop.

So, off I drove to McCheyenne teaching hospital. On the way, I bought a bunch of fruits. It would be like a farewell gift both for the staff and my ward, I surmised.

When I arrived at the hospital, I bumped into Gloria hurrying out of a corridor. She was sweating and her eyes bore a thousand secrets.

I apologised and steadied myself. Knowing she could read me, I wordlessly inquired as to what was happening.

The words she blurted made my face blanch as the earth twirled in dangerous spirals.

"Radiance, I'm leaving."

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Author's Note: It's the first Sunday in November! Oh boy! I am so exhausted... (I had a long day at my church's super amazing anniversary.)😮‍💨
Anyways, I am glad HS helped me to deliver this chapter. 🥰

And that bomb that Gloria dropped at the end... Hmmm, I reserve my comment oh. 🥲

What do you think comes next?

Me, I'm so excited because a lot is coming. The hints and twists HS has been dropping in my heart going forward, ehn...😆 If only I could just write.😅 Brace yourself!

Don't leave without showing some love by liking and sharing this chapter. Have a beautiful week ahead. Until next time, hold on to Jesus. 💖✨