THE AUDACITY OF FAITH

How to subtly replace your prayer time with speaking with the boo time

My favourite night meal, and honestly, my favourite meal of all time, was bread, butter, and tea. But on May 8th, 2024, I came dangerously close to it being the last meal I’d ever eat.

As the ambulance rushed me to the hospital, the blaring siren drowned out every other sound around me. Yet, there was one thought it couldn't silence in my mind: If I were to die from this ailment, what color would my family choose for my casket?

Caveat: This letter may contain few or more graphic details about the 2 stomach surgeries I underwent earlier this year so if you do not have the stomach to bear it (pun intended) don’t proceed.

I had just finished eating my favourite meal for the night and as I placed the cup back on the table, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. I took water and went to bed. On my bed, I spoke with my boyfriend for a while but the discussion was cut short because the pain kept increasing. He prayed for me and I went to bed.

At exactly 1 a.m., I woke up in excruciating pain. When it became unbearable, I woke my sister from her bed and asked her to search the house for a pain reliever. She remembered that our mum used to keep a few in her room, so she went to check.

I lay there, listening to her rummage through the poor woman’s belongings, silently praying that even in death, my mother would somehow come through for me by having a sachet of antacid tucked away in her bedside table.

To my relief, my prayers were answered. Olamide returned with not one but two sachets of antacid. I quickly took them, but the pain remained.

Fast forward to two days later, my doctor was writing a referral note that would take me to General hospital. Even my doctor, whom I trust his expertise, couldn’t find a solution to my health challenge. According to him, I wasn’t responding to treatment.

The last time I heard the words “She isn’t responding to treatment” was back in 2012 when my best friend, Ify, laid unconscious on her deathbed. Scary!

When I clocked 24, I hosted a few of my friends to a small get together and shared drinks and snacks. This was during my NYSC, in a remote village, far away from civilization home. Those were fun times but they didn’t come without their own challenges.

For example, I had two groups of friends; the believers who were members of NCCF (Nigerian Christian Corpers Fellowship) and the non-believing but Church-going Christians who thought NCCF members were just a bunch of sinners who served God for show.

How did I find myself in this situation, you would ask, well, here’s your answer.

I wasn’t always a believer but I would often follow my friend to Bible study meetings which took place immediately after CDS (Community Development Service). I did this out of boredom because what else will a Nigerian corper do after CDS if not to sleep right?

Eventually, my friend stopped attending Bible study. Apparently, her crush, whom she followed to Bible study was made the gen sec of NCCF, which meant no time for relationship. Since she saw there was no hope there, she stopped going.

Listen, this is a story for another newsletter, but the significant part of this is that I stopped going to Bible study because of my friend (or boredom) and started going because I was hooked.

Back to my birthday get together. I was quite unhappy that day, but I still hosted my friends and shared a few lessons I had learned in 24 years from the word of God with them.

As I spoke, I couldn’t help but notice that my un-believing but Church-going friends were bored and were soon going to leave, so I rounded up my talk, shared the goodies and returned to our lodge (I had hosted them in the chapel where we held our Bible study, morning devotions and NCCF prayer meetings).

Later that night, I thought about why I was unhappy.

First, I barely had any money with me, aside from what I used to buy drinks and snacks. The year before, my then-boyfriend had surprised me with a huge cake and treated me to a special meal at a fancy eatery.

This year felt so different, and I found myself sinking into birthday blues, convinced that last year’s celebration was far better than this one.

I thought to myself, that by this time next year, things would be a lot different. I’d have finished NYSC, gotten married with a kid, and would be working in a corporate organization.

As I sat in my hospital bed earlier this year, my mind strayed back to that night in the lodge where I thought I would have accomplished many of these things. But 8 years later, I was still unmarried and certainly don’t work in a corporate organization.

a few days before my second surgery

I don’t have a kid either, rather, I’m battling with life recovering from an intestinal obstruction surgery after just recovering from a fibroid surgery less than 2 months ago.

Truly, “There are many devices in a man’s heart; nevertheless the counsel of the Lord, that shall stand.” - Proverbs 19:21.

I replayed the events in the theater over and over in my mind.

I was lying flat on the bed, waiting to be cut open, when one of the doctors placed an oxygen mask over my nose. But he didn’t position it properly. I wasn’t getting any oxygen. In fact, the mask was pressing against one of my nostrils, making it even harder to breathe.

Frustrated, I pulled the mask off and called his attention to it, but instead of fixing the issue, he remained engrossed in his phone. I tried adjusting the mask myself, but he held on to it tightly. That’s when one of the junior surgeons suggested, “If you can’t breathe through your nose, try breathing through your mouth.”

Good idea, but nope. I couldn’t shake the thought that if something went wrong because of this surgeon’s negligence, I might not wake up after the surgery and it would simply be written off as a surgical risk, and the hospital will move on.

While I was still protesting, the next thing I knew, I was waking up from the induced sleep. The surgery was over.

Weeks later, during a routine checkup, my doctor explained that the entire ordeal had been intentional. It was a distraction to keep me unaware as they administered the anesthesia.

Crazy right?

Before my first surgery, I had a brief conversation with the surgeon. He explained that I would remain conscious during the procedure but would be given medication to block the pain. True to his word, I didn’t feel any pain, but I did feel an intense amount of pressure throughout.

The experience brought back memories of when my sister had appendicitis surgery years ago. In her case, they forgot to administer the anesthesia before making the incision. I’ll spare you the graphic details, I promise.

Faith is an audacity. The Bible says without it you can never please God, and I’m all about pleasing God with my entire life. But sometimes, it can be difficult to have faith.

Although I knew I would come out of the hospital alive in both cases, I couldn’t shake that tiny feeling that what if something went wrong? What if that was my final days on earth?

Thank God for the story in Mark 9:23-24, we can pray about our unbelief.

Listen, when you decide to live on the audacity of God, you have to continuously lean on Him. Even if you cannot trace Him, trust Him. When you feel like you’re about to fall apart completely that’s when he’s all the more closer.

Take it from someone whose life is completely falling apart. Lately, I’ve been experiencing a shaking happening around me. First my career and finances, then my work in the house of God, even my relationship, my friendships, my goals and dreams.

I've been bouncing from one task to another, unable to focus and produce meaningful, work. And from what I've learned, solitude is a crucial ingredient for creativity to flourish.

I haven’t experienced any kind of solitude in a while, not since I started working for one of my clients who abruptly ended our contract before its official term.

Although they didn’t honour the terms of the agreement, I must admit I felt relieved. The project turned out to be more demanding than I had anticipated, it totally threw my work plans into disarray.

I told my friend earlier about how things have sort of being feeling upside down for me and he shared Romans 8:26 with me. There’s a hand upon my life that is shaking me and turning things upside down. It’s calling me to a place of consecration and total dependence.

I recently changed my entire website home page from what a service provider’s homepage should look like to something I still don’t understand. This is because I have decided that in 2025, I will work less on things that bring in money (i.e. client work) and work more on the things of God, i.e. give myself to Bible study, prayers, my work in my Church service unit, spiritual meetings, and dare I say, teaching the word whenever the opportunity arises.

You must think I’m crazy, otherwise, why would I be planning to book less clients and read more Bible? What will I eat?

Here, look:

Because,

I’m keeping the faith!

Lately, I’ve been attending deeply impactful spiritual gatherings. Since I’m fully committing to God in 2025, I figured it’s best to start now and build momentum early.

The first was The Experience, which, as always, was packed to capacity. Next, I attended Reboot Camp for the first time, and all four halls at Daystar, where it was held, were completely filled.

I also went for Upper Room with Dunsin Oyekan, and it too was absolutely packed.

There’s a powerful move of God in our generation, and we must be ready for it, even though not everyone believes we’re prepared.

Back in 2022, I attended a Pastors and Ministers Conference hosted by Covenant Nation with some pastors and evangelists from my church. I was the youngest in the group and the only one who wasn’t a church leader. We took a few pictures at the entrance before heading inside.

After an insightful session by Pastor Poju Oyemade, one of the evangelists and I stepped out to take a few pictures. I innocently uploaded one of the images to my status, turned off my data, and went back to listen to the next session.

Later, I checked my phone and found several messages waiting for me, mostly people playfully teasing me about attending a pastors’ conference.

the innocent picture the innocent me took

The message that stood out to me was from a lady who asked, "Are you a pastor? Why are you even attending a pastors’ conference?"

I just replied with an emoji and moved on.

Many people really underrate this generation sha. So because I’m a young person, I shouldn’t attend pastors’ conference. Hian!

Me that I’m completely sold out to God, I don’t joke with gathering of the saints, I’m at every Qavah meeting, Upper room meeting, pastors and ministers conference, reboot camp, TGKC, WOFBEC, and so on.

mark your calendars and set your reminders!

What about you, dear young person? Are you on fire for God? Do you have audacious faith? You prayed for a good relationship and when it finally came, are you replacing your prayer time with catching up with your boo?

I’m not saying you shouldn’t speak to the love of your life, in fact studies have said late night conversations with our babe goes a long way. But just because it’s accepted in the world doesn’t mean it’s accepted in the word.

This is my last letter to you for the year, till we speak again, see you in 2025 ❤️