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Tomi sat scrolling through her phone again. Another girl just got a new car. Someone else just announced a relocation. And there she was, sitting on her bed, holding a phone with a cracked screen, wondering if life forgot her. She sighed. “God, I’m tired of feeling behind.” But what she didn’t realize was that her heart had been quietly competing with screens, chasing illusions wrapped in filters and hashtags. We don’t say it out loud, but comparison creeps in silently Through likes, stories, and reels. You see someone’s highlight and forget it’s just a frame, not the full film. Behind every glowing picture is a reality that doesn’t always shine. Behind every “soft life” caption is someone fighting unseen battles. Yet we scroll, compare, and shrink, not realizing that peace cannot coexist with constant competition. God doesn’t rate you by your online timeline. He measures growth by what happens when no one’s watching Your persistence, your patience, your prayer. So, stop competing with...

“Ehn ehn… so I heard you now judge your worth by the kind of phone you use?” Those words replayed in my mind the day I saw a young lady hide her phone, not because it was broken, but because it wasn’t a Pro. It was an iPhone 11, but she felt embarrassed. “People might think I’m broke,” she whispered, smiling awkwardly. And I sighed. When did we start tying our value to pixels and megapixels? When did the glow of a screen replace the glow of peace? We’ve become a generation that measures success by what can be seen, the brand of your phone, the car key in your photo, the luxury background behind your mirror selfie. But some of the loudest pictures hide the quietest pain. We are chasing appearances more than growth, spending to impress instead of investing to progress. But here’s the truth, your worth is not defined by your device. You can still dream, build, and rise with a cracked phone but a clear vision. Because wealth isn’t in what you post; it’s in the peace you carry when no one’s...

There was a time Sarah thought God had gone quiet. No open doors, no answered prayers, just silence. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months of waiting, and she began to wonder if her name had somehow been erased from Heaven’s list. She did everything right She prayed, fasted, showed up but nothing seemed to move. Every time she scrolled through social media, someone else had a testimony, someone else was sharing “God did it,” and she whispered softly, “What about me, Lord?” But here’s what she didn’t see, even in that silence, God was working. Not in the way she expected, but in the way she needed. Sometimes, the most powerful seasons in your life are the ones where it seems nothing is happening. Because in silence, roots are growing. Character is forming. Faith is being stretched. And Heaven is preparing a stage that eyes haven’t seen yet. You may not see movement, but the foundation is being laid beneath the surface. God’s silence is not His absence, it’s His strategy. Sarah d...

Tomi sat in front of her laptop, staring at a blank page. She used to write effortlessly, words flowed like water. But lately, fear had tied her fingers. She whispered to herself, “Maybe I’ve lost it… maybe it’s too late.” She closed her eyes, remembering all the times she’d started something and stopped halfway, the business idea that failed, the overwhelming debt, the friendship that broke, the dream she buried because disappointment hurt too deeply. One evening, as the rain tapped softly against her window, she felt a gentle nudge in her heart “Try again.” Not because she had it all figured out, but because God hadn’t changed His mind about her. Starting again doesn’t mean you failed, it means you’re brave enough to believe that new beginnings still exist. Even if your last attempt ended in tears, even if the world moved on while you were healing, grace still waits for your “yes.” The truth is, we all have moments where life resets us. And that’s okay. Because God never runs out of ...

Tola almost didn’t check her email that morning. She was tired, discouraged, and close to giving up on applying for jobs. But there it was, an invitation for an interview she had prayed for months ago. Her heart raced. And as she walked into that room days later, she realized something: Every late night of studying, every quiet season of self-doubt, every “no” that taught her perseverance was preparing her for this moment. God had answered but only when she was ready. Sometimes it feels like heaven is delaying, but it’s really aligning. Because opportunity without readiness becomes wasted favor. We often pray for open doors, but God waits until our hands are strong enough to hold what’s on the other side. Preparation may feel lonely. It may look like nothing is happening. But behind the silence, God is equipping you for the stage you prayed for. When opportunity finally meets readiness, you won’t have to strive, you’ll just fit. Because you’ll realize that while you were waiting, God w...

It was a quiet morning when Ada got the message: “Thank you for checking on me last night. You saved me from doing something stupid.” She froze. All she did was send a message “Hey, how are you holding up?” But those few words became a lifeline. Sometimes we underestimate the power of our presence. We think we’re too ordinary, too small, too unseen, yet somewhere, someone is whispering a prayer that your obedience will answer. You may not have everything figured out. You might still be trying to make sense of your own journey. But even in your uncertainty, God is still using you. Every smile you share, every word you write, every act of kindness, it carries the potential to heal someone’s unseen wound. You are God’s response wrapped in humanity. Your compassion is someone’s comfort. Your story is someone’s survival guide. So, when you feel unseen, remember this: You are seen by God and sent for someone. Keep showing up in love. Keep being kind even when it’s unnoticed. Because sometime...

She prayed passionately that night, tears soaking her pillow. “Lord, bless me. Open doors. Change my story.” And heaven heard her. But heaven also whispered something she almost missed: “You can’t pray and stay unprepared.” At first, she didn’t understand. But as days turned into weeks, it became clearer, Faith is not folding your arms; it’s rolling up your sleeves. Many times, we pray for rain but don’t dig ditches. We ask for opportunities but don’t learn the skills to manage them. We want to be seen, but haven’t built what’s worth showing. Prayer without preparation is like planting without watering, you’ll have seeds but no growth. Yes, God answers prayers, but He also honors readiness. When Joseph was in the prison, he didn’t just sit and sulk; he interpreted dreams, building a gift that would later speak before kings. David didn’t become a warrior overnight; his training started in the fields, facing lions before facing Goliath. So, girl, don’t just pray for the platform, prepare...

It started with a phone call. “Temi, can you handle this project?” Her heart leaped, this was the kind of opportunity she had prayed for. But as she stared at the requirements, her excitement slowly turned into fear. She realized she wasn’t ready. She wanted the stage, but she hadn’t learned the script. She wanted the blessing, but hadn’t built the capacity to carry it. That day, she learned a hard truth: God doesn’t just bless your prayers, He blesses your preparation. Many times, we pray for more without preparing for more. We ask God to enlarge our territory, but we don’t stretch our minds. We pray for open doors, but our skills, discipline, and mindset aren’t ready to walk through them. Building capacity means growing before the breakthrough comes. It’s studying when no one’s watching. It’s practicing when no one’s clapping. It’s learning, refining, and stretching yourself quietly because when the opportunity finally arrives, there’ll be no time to start learning. Girl, don’t wait ...

The day it hit her, she was scrolling through her phone again, watching people announce new jobs, online certifications, and fresh wins. She paused for a moment and whispered, “God, what am I even doing with my life?” Not out of jealousy, but realization. The world was moving, and somehow, she was standing still caught between comfort and fear. She had dreams, big ones. But dreams don’t grow if you don’t feed them. And then came that gentle nudge in her spirit: “Educate yourself. Add more to your knowledge.” It wasn’t just about school or certificates. It was about stretching her mind, growing her confidence, and refusing to let stagnancy become home. Because truth is, you can’t keep being on the same spot while others are progressing. Learning doesn’t end after graduation. Every new skill, every book, every course, every conversation adds a layer of wisdom that shapes who you’re becoming. Girl, the world is evolving. You can’t keep saying, “I don’t know how to,” when there are free re...

There was a time I thought being still meant being weak. I believed movement was proof of progress, and if I wasn’t constantly doing something, I was somehow failing. Until life slowed me down, painfully. I remember those quiet evenings when everything in me wanted to fix things. The unanswered prayers, the financial weight, the unspoken fears. But no matter how hard I tried, nothing shifted. And that’s when I heard it. Not audibly, but deep within my spirit: “Be still.” Still? When everything is falling apart? Still? When there are bills waiting and dreams hanging? It didn’t make sense right? But over time, I realized, stillness isn’t weakness; it’s strength. It takes courage to be calm when everything screams, “Do something!” It takes faith to rest your heart when the answers haven’t come. It takes trust to wait when you could worry instead. Stillness doesn’t mean idleness; it means surrender. It’s where God does His deepest work, in quiet hearts, not frantic ones. When you stop stri...

The waiting season can feel like a slow ache, you’ve prayed, believed, done all you know, yet it feels like heaven is still writing your story in pencil. There was a time I thought waiting meant doing nothing. But I’ve learned, waiting isn’t passive; it’s preparation. It’s what you do while you wait that shapes what comes next. While you wait, worship- even when it feels hollow. Because worship reminds your soul that God is still worthy, even when life feels weary. While you wait, work- not out of panic, but with purpose. Learn, grow, build. Don’t bury your talents because you’re waiting for the big stage; the lessons you learn now will sustain you when the light finally shines. While you wait, watch- for the quiet ways God is moving. He might not change the circumstance yet, but He’s changing you, teaching you patience, faith, humility, trust. And while you wait, rest- not in defeat, but in assurance that God’s hands never stop working. Even silence is strategy. Even delay has directi...

The waiting season feels like standing in a long queue you never planned for. You’re watching others being called ahead of you, someone gets the job, someone gets the promotion, someone shares the testimony you’ve been praying for. And there you are, still waiting, still holding your number, still whispering, “Lord, am I a stone? How long will it take?” Waiting isn’t easy. Sometimes it feels endless, like your prayers are stuck in traffic. It tests your patience, your peace, and your belief in God’s timing. It exposes the parts of you that crave control and teaches you to surrender what you can’t change. The waiting room is quiet, but it’s not empty. That’s where God works behind the scenes, aligning hearts, shifting circumstances, and preparing you for what’s ahead. Sometimes the delay is divine protection. Sometimes it’s redirection. And sometimes, it’s simply growth. If God gave you what you prayed for too early, you might lose it trying to manage it. So He waits, until your faith i...

That night, Peju couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears came without warning-hot, heavy, uncontrollable. I knelt beside my bed, not with bold faith this time, but with a broken heart. I cried. I prayed. I begged. “Lord, please… just this one thing.” But the heavens stayed silent. No sign. No shift. Just quiet. I remember staring into the darkness, whispering, “God, are You still listening?” Because how do you keep believing when nothing seems to move? How do you keep praying when your words feel like echoes that never return? It wasn’t that I stopped believing, I was just tired. Tired of holding on. Tired of explaining to people why things still weren’t changing. Tired of pretending that I wasn’t breaking inside. You see, no one talks enough about the waiting room of faith — that sacred space between prayer and manifestation, where silence feels like rejection, but it’s really preparation. In that quiet pain, God didn’t answer my prayer the way I wanted but He answered me. He strengthe...

It’s always in the midnight. Iffy turned from one side of the bed to the other, chasing peace like it was hiding in the corners of her room. No matter how she tried to quiet her mind, it kept shouting- bills, disappointments, unanswered prayers. She whispered, “God, I just want peace.” But even that prayer felt too heavy to finish. You ever get to that point where peace feels like a luxury? Where your thoughts run faster than your faith? You smile in the daytime, but when night comes, your chest feels heavy and you start to wonder if peace is meant for people like you, or if you somehow missed it. I’ve learned something, peace isn’t something you chase; it’s something you receive. Peace doesn’t always mean silence. Sometimes, it’s the strength to stand in the storm. It’s the calm that settles in your heart when everything around you is still chaotic. God never promised a life without noise, He promised His presence in the middle of it. And sometimes, peace doesn’t come in the absence o...

No one sees it, do they? That silent weight you carry every day, the one that doesn’t show on your face but sits heavy on your heart. You wake up, dress up, and show up, smiling like everything’s fine. But deep down, you’re tired. Not just tired, weary. There’s a weight that doesn’t make noise. It’s the burden of being the strong one, the dependable one, You’ve learned to hide it so well that even your tears have learned silence. Sometimes, you wish someone could just see through your strength and say, “You don’t have to be okay today.” But everyone assumes you’ve got it figured out. They don’t know you cry in between victories, that some nights you whisper, “God, I can’t do this anymore.” And yet, even in that exhaustion, grace still finds you. God sees what others don’t. He knows how long you’ve been holding on, and He’s not distant from your pain. He’s been walking with you, quietly carrying the part of the weight you couldn’t bear. So, take a deep breath. You don’t have to hold eve...

I was pacing again. You know that restless walk you take when you’ve prayed, but nothing seems to move? That “God, are You sure You’re hearing me?” kind of pacing. I wanted results. I wanted answers. But heaven felt quiet, painfully quiet and I was running out of patience. Until one morning, a gentle whisper settled in my heart: “Be still. I’m still working.” It stopped me. Because I realized I’d been treating God like an employee, someone I expected daily progress reports from. Every time nothing changed, I assumed He’d forgotten me. But He hadn’t. God doesn’t forget. He just works differently. He builds quietly, behind the scenes, while we’re busy panicking. He’s not in a rush; He’s in control. Sometimes, the delay you hate is the protection you need. Sometimes, the silence you fear is the setup for a testimony you’re not ready to handle yet. So now, when my heart starts to worry, I remind myself: Stillness isn’t weakness, it’s faith. It’s choosing to trust even when your miracle fee...

It was one of those quiet nights again, the kind where your heart feels louder than your prayers. I sat on my bed, staring at the ceiling, whispering words that felt too heavy to say out loud: “God… are You still there?” It’s strange how silence can sound so loud. You kneel, whispering prayers with trembling lips, and all you hear is the clock ticking- mocking your faith with every second that passes. You check again- no answer. You listen again- no voice. And slowly, you start to wonder, “Did I do something wrong?” “Maybe God has forgotten me.” I’ve been there — in that sacred silence where heaven feels shut, and your tears become your only language. But here’s what I’ve learned: God’s silence isn’t absence; it’s strategy. When He’s quiet, He’s crafting. When He hides, He’s healing. When He delays, He’s developing something deeper in you. Sometimes, God’s quiet doesn’t mean He’s not speaking, it means He’s teaching you to trust without evidence. He’s showing you that faith isn’t built...

There was a night I sat on my bed, tears falling faster than the words I could pray. “God, are You still there?” I whispered. Honestly, I didn’t feel strong anymore. Because sometimes, faith doesn’t roar, it trembles. Sometimes it’s not a shout of victory; it’s a quiet whisper through tears: “Lord, help my unbelief.” I had done everything I knew- prayed, fasted, encouraged others, yet nothing seemed to change. My faith, once loud and fiery, had become a trembling whisper. There are days faith feels strong, and you can conquer anything. Then there are days it feels fragile- when you’re holding on to promises that seem delayed, when you’ve prayed for months and nothing changes. It’s like holding a candle in the wind, shielding it with trembling hands, hoping the light doesn’t go off. But here’s the truth no one tells you: even faith that shakes still speaks. Even when all you can say is “Lord, help me,” it’s still a prayer Heaven hears. He honors your trying, even when you’re tired. He s...

Victoria sat pretty on her bed, scrolling through her phone again. Another friend just got engaged. Someone else moved abroad. Another started a new job. “God did it!” captions everywhere. She smiled, but deep down something in her whispered, “And there you are - still here- staring at your screen.” Then softly, “God, when will it be my turn?” It’s not envy. It’s that quiet ache of delay, the silent comparison that sneaks in when you’re trying to stay grateful, but your heart still feels left out. You tell yourself you trust God, yet part of you wonders if maybe you’re doing something wrong. It’s easy to feel left behind when everyone seems to be moving faster. When you’ve prayed, worked, waited, yet the answers still delay. You start to wonder if you missed your path or if God somehow forgot your address. I’ve been there. Waiting. Praying. Trying. And when it feels like everyone’s race is moving faster than yours, you start questioning your own lane. But here’s what God keeps teaching...

To the girl who’s tired, uncertain, and waiting on God. You’re not behind; you’re becoming. GIRL, ARE YOU SINCERELY OKAY? You keep saying “I’m fine,” but deep down, your heart knows otherwise. This isn’t weakness, it’s exhaustion. Read this slowly. Breathe again. Girl, are you sincerely okay? Not the “I’m fine” you tell your friends, not the “I’m good” you post online but the kind of okay that lets you breathe without pretending. You’ve been strong for too long, haven’t you?Smiling through pain, showing up when your soul is tired, carrying weight while quietly drowning There’s a kind of exhaustion no amount of sleep can fix, the kind that comes from fighting invisible battles. You’re trying to hold it together, but some days it feels like life is holding you by a thread. Some days, strength looks like tears. Some days, faith sounds like silence. If you’ve been holding it all together, this piece is for you. Girl, you deserve to pause. You deserve to exhale. You deserve to admit that yo...

“Asake, what is even wrong with you?” Mosunmola asked, her face tight with concern. “Why do you like to put others first before yourself? I just saw you ranting to Joy, yet a few minutes ago you were busy trying to please Faith. What’s up with this double character you’re playing?” Asake sighed deeply. “You know Joy is my sister—she’ll understand but people from afar? I gats act considerate now. It’s just a normal thing.” Mosunmola stood up slowly and nodded her head. “Sincerely, I don’t know what’s wrong with you. Just a few days ago, we were trying to figure out how to clear your debts, and now you’re here promising someone something you don’t even have?” Asake looked down, fiddling with her fingers. “You know I don’t want them saying things about me. You know how people can be—‘she calls herself a Christian,’ blah, blah, blah. I’m not ready for drama.” Mosunmola sighed. “You see that drama you’re trying to avoid? You’ll still act it because tell me, where were they when you were soa...

It whispers in your ear: You’re not enough. You should have done more. Others are ahead. Why are you still struggling? It makes your chest tight. It steals your sleep. It spins your mind with different thoughts, replaying every mistake, every moment you feel you fell short. Sometimes you feel like you’re drowning in it. Gasping for air. Wanting to scream, but no one sees the storm raging inside. They see the smiles. They see the calm but they don’t see the nights you lie awake, staring at the ceiling, tears soaking your pillow, silently begging for an answer from God The pressure is real. It’s financial debts, bills, responsibilities that never sleep. It’s emotional, the fear of disappointing those you love, the fear of failing, the fear that you’ll never be enough. It’s spiritual, the fight to hold onto faith when it feels like everything is falling apart, when prayers seem unanswered, when hope feels so far away and yet, even in this suffocating weight, there is a light A whisper of ...

There are some pain you choose to ignore and there are some that leaves you with a great lesson I resigned from a job to pick up another job in another sector with an higher pay. Bills are billing and I just told myself, “this is the opportunity I have been waiting for” The interview happened on WhatsApp call but the network interrupted and I even had to switch to the office router. These were signs but I ignored again. (I means who does interview on WhatsApp call) Then after several interruptions, she created a google meet link and i didn’t get to see her face. On that same day, i got accepted without offer letter and when I asked, i was told to write my offer letter. (As how now, smiles) Still, I ignored it Why? Because the salary looked like the answer to my prayer Weeks passed, workload increased and I even had to pull a friend to join, on contract. Then payday came and went. Promise turned to silence. Number stopped going through . The HR’s identity was fake. I didn’t even get dat...

Be kind to people in words, actions and support. Many are carrying burdens you cannot see because there’s no peace in mind, even on social media. The pressure, the weight, the struggles to become something, the debts, the joblessness, they all speak louder than the voices fighting in the mind and before you know it, depression start to creep in. If you let it in, it will take the whole being and life will still continue even when you’re broken. Life has a way of bullying you and devil use that opportunity to expand it and make you surrounded by it but you have the power to push back by making it a necessity to speak to yourself each day when you wake, tell yourself, I FIND PEACE. You are a young lady but the challenges you are facing have added years to your age, you look like you’re old. You are 20 but looking 30. You stay awake each night because of lack of peace. Return those worries and doubt but speaking peace to yourself and it’s through the positive words of your mouth that shap...

IF YOU ARE DOWN EMOTIONALLY, Pray with me… Lord, here I am again with trembling hands and a heavy heart. I don’t have the right words anymore, just tears and whispers. I have tried to be strong, but I am burdened. I have tried to carry the weight, but it is crushing me. I have smiled in public, but in secret, my heart has been breaking. So I come to You, not with fancy words but with a plea: Help me. Help me when the world feels too loud and my faith feels too small. Help me when bills pile up, when responsibilities drown me, when I feel I am not enough. Help me when silence feels like an answer, when waiting feels like a punishment, when hope feels like a stranger. Lord, see my tears. They are not just drops of water, they are prayers. Each one carries a story, a wound, a need. And I lay them all at Your feet. “You are close to the brokenhearted and save those who are crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18) You said You will never leave nor forsake me. God, I hold onto those promises like a...

I was off a month and one thing I’ve realized is that nothing beats a moment of reflection, even in the midst of the storm. Sometimes, all you need is to retreat. Watch out for my writings on this space; it’s going to be therapeutic, a little sanctuary for your mind. DON’T HIDE. DON’T GIVE UP Over the years, so many people have chosen silence but silence often makes healing harder. It’s an emotional struggle Sometimes, emotion mix up because the life you want, looks like the one someone else is living Or the job you’ve been craving doesn’t come through, no matter how hard you try. You can’t just find happiness and so, little by little, you start to give up. You shut the door to new opportunities not because you want up but because you’re tired of getting hopes high again You are so fast to shift blame’s on others even though you know deep down it’s not but you just want to feel right You live quietly, secretly hoping that one day, someone will notice you. But how? When? What if no one...