And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to His purpose.

Romans 8:28

Johanna

I rose from the bench where I'd been sitting, brushing off the edge of my blouse, and made my way toward the canteen's exit. As I stepped onto the grass, my gaze caught a familiar figure seated on a bench under the shade of a tree.

Pastor Melchour.

I paused for a moment, wondering why he was there, so still and thoughtful.

"Professor?" I called, stepping a little closer.

He turned, and a smile spread gently across his face. "Oh, hi Johanna. Have you eaten lunch already?"

I nodded, returning his smile. "Yes, Sir. I have. What about you? What brings you here?"

"Ah," he said, leaning back slightly. "The other teachers invited me to eat out with them, so I'm just waiting for them here. And you? What brings you out here?"

"My best friend and I usually come here during our break," I said, my eyes briefly scanning the area for Mercy. "I've got an hour before my next class, so I thought I'd relax a bit."

He glanced around, his gaze soft. "The quiet scenery does help with the stress of college life, doesn't it?"

I smiled, feeling the truth of his words. "Exactly, Sir. It's been tough at times. I barely made it through the past four years."

He tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. "I thought you'd only been studying here for three years?"

I shook my head lightly. "Oh, that's right. I transferred here after my first year. I started at another university, but... I couldn't afford to continue."

"I see." His voice was thoughtful. "Pastor Marina mentioned your parents aren't with you. So, who supports you with your studies?"

"My aunt," I said quietly, my voice dipping. I glanced at him before lowering my gaze. "She's been supporting me since I came to the city. In exchange, I work at her restaurant after classes."

"That's quite something," he said softly. "But... what about your parents, Johanna?"

I drew in a slow breath, steadying myself against the weight of old memories.

"My dad died of a heart attack when I was five," I said, my voice faint. "And my mom... she ran off with another man." The words hung between us, heavy and unspoken, until he finally spoke.

"Oh," he said quietly, his voice laced with sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Johanna."

I lifted my head and met his gaze, a faint, sad smile touching my lips. "It's okay, Sir. I've grown used to it. And besides... I have Jesus now."

His smile deepened, gentle and understanding. "Indeed, Johanna."

A silence fell between us for a moment, broken only by the sound of the breeze rustling through the trees. He glanced around. "Hmm. I wonder what's keeping those teachers so long."

We both scanned the surroundings. Still no sign of them.

"Well," he said, turning back to me, "you mentioned your aunt owns a restaurant?"

"Yes, Sir," I replied, managing a small nod. "She runs a place in the city. I work there six days a week after my classes."

"That's a lot to juggle," he said, admiration in his tone. "Your aunt sounds like a generous person for supporting you."

I hesitated, biting my lip. My fingers twisted in the hem of my sleeve. "Well... yes, I suppose. But we've never really gotten along. She curses at me sometimes and—" The memory of her pulling my hair and lashing me with sticks surged up, making me shudder. I bit my tongue, stopping myself. "There were... a lot of issues between her and my mom. My mom did some hurtful things to her, so maybe that's part of why she doesn't like me."

His brow creased with quiet concern. "I see."

His reaction caught me off guard. No one had ever looked at me with that kind of concern before—except Mercy. It left me feeling strangely comforted.

He sighed, leaning back a bit. "Maybe she's not as wonderful as I thought. Still, I believe God has a reason for placing you where you are, Johanna."

I released a long, slow sigh. "I hope I find that reason soon."

He met my gaze, his voice soft but firm. "You will. Just keep seeking Him with your whole heart. Even when life feels unfair or unclear, God has a purpose. Sometimes we don't understand why things happen the way they do, but through every trial, He's shaping us. He may not always answer when we want Him to, but in the waiting, He's forming something in us that can only be built through perseverance."

His words settled over me like a balm, softening the ache I'd carried for so long. He was right. I could feel it in the depths of my soul. God had not abandoned me.

"Sir Eyasan!" A voice called from behind us. I turned to see Ma'am Brenda hurrying toward us, a few teachers trailing after her.

"Sorry we're late!" she said, her voice slightly breathless. "Ma'am Gregor's class ran over, and we had to wait for her at the lobby."

"Oh, hi Miss Dumay!" she added, noticing me.

"Hi, good afternoon, Ma'am," I said softly, stepping back a little.

Pastor Melchour stood and smiled. "It's alright. Johanna kept me company, so I didn't mind. Shall we go?"

"Let's! I'm starving," Ma'am Brenda laughed as they turned to leave.

"See you around, Johanna," Pastor Melchour said over his shoulder.

I bowed slightly and waved. "Take care, teachers," I murmured, watching them walk away.

His words still echoed in my mind, a gentle reminder of hope. I lowered my head, my heart stirring with quiet understanding.

For so long, I hadn't understood the purpose behind my pain. I hadn't understood why my mother left, why my father was taken so soon, why my heart felt so empty. I had even blamed God, convincing myself He wasn't there. But now, standing there beneath the soft, overcast sky, I understood.

If I hadn't faced such brokenness, I might never have felt the desperate need for a Savior. If my life had been perfect, I might never have found the One who could truly satisfy the longing in my heart.

I lifted my gaze to the sky, clouds drifting lazily above me.

"Thank You, Lord," I whispered.