January 2, 2017.

Dear Future Husband,

I thought about you early this morning, and my heart told me that you needed to hear a real word from me. The truth is that I think about you most of the time even though I’ve never met you as my husband.

I realized dearest, that I know a handful about you, some of which are facts and others of which are some truths that Abba Daddy had let me in on you. I am not sure that I have the courage to tell you some of these truths on the pages of this letter because I have a feeling that a lot of other people will stumble into this letter, and you know, these things are supposed to be our sweet little secrets.

These facts, I would love to talk about, if not to remind you, then at least for refreshing myself.

First, you have been born dear future husband.

Born before I was, for inasmuch as I am too traditional to marry a younger man, I am not too sure that my heavenly Father would be so pleased with the thought of a ‘lil brother’ managing me- I just cannot tell.

Second, you are my brother first, my friend second, and would be my husband last.

You’ll always be all these to me while we walk the earth, but I know that you’ll be my brother all through eternity; and when we shall be in heaven, I’d definitely recognize you in heaven as that my favorite brother who Father handed me to, to watch and guide me on His behalf through earth life. I think we’d still be real besties then- nothing twisted I guess!

I also know that you my brother; might have probably crossed paths with me, may even be one of my good friends now, could even be one of my favorite guys right now, or even interestingly be a total stranger to me. Whichever way, you must be one of my brothers, most def!

You are my brother, not just because I’ve always wanted my own big brother from mamy, but because I know we share the very very same heavenly Father. So I know that Abba Daddy would be your Father-in-law and yet be your real daddy at the same time; I think this is getting complicated, but that is a sweet thing to me.

Dear Future Husband, I am writing you this letter- though not exclusively, to tell you something really special which I think might be of help to you, because I know that my heart is simply the only heart that there ever will be that could receive the faintest vibrations of your very heartbeat. I am not bragging about it because it wasn’t my own doing. In fact, I’ve never created anything close to a heart before, so I didn’t make my heart with such receptors and antennae. God did! He has made our hearts to beat more than just alike- that thing a lot of people might enjoy to call soul mates, I really do not know what exactly that is about but I know that I can receive your vibes any day, anytime, anywhere, anyhow, as long as I decide to let myself listen to my heart.

So dearest, I am driving at something but I hope you read carefully and let yourself hear the word in my little digression right now.

I’d love to tell you about my struggles with some people’s favorite word, ‘marriage’. I was really haunted, depressed and made sober by that word ‘marriage’ sometime in October last year. I found out that trying to convince myself not to marry, really got me depressed until father helped me by His Spirit!

You might wonder why I was trying to convince myself against such a ‘beautiful’ thing as marriage, it didn’t appear to make any sense- I know.

Marriage’s beautiful no doubt especially when I create it in my head but somehow, weddings appeared to be the most beautiful and sensational part of it for most people. In fact, I witnessed an adorable wedding just before October and there could be nothing more lovely than sitting back and watching ‘love birds’ exchange the most heartfelt and most sincere vows. I knew that Father loved me silly but somehow, marriage didn’t go down too well with me.

I have learned by experience that friends and family would definitely fight, even very often but would still care a lot about each other; but I also know that sometimes, the wounds from a word war, in the face of a raging hateful storm could be really stubborn when it came to getting healed, and even it does heal, the scars of them might never disappear completely. So I was really afraid to ever get married to you. I know you might be relieved that my tenses appear to be in the past, right?

What you really have to learn about me, is that I live for a love-charged atmosphere (I mean, a Spirit charged environment) but I don’t yet know how to not screw up at all. I am a big bundle of flaws if you really want to know the real truth. I know that if I fail to walk in the Spirit, my little big mouth might really hurt your heart in a way that even if you tell me that you are healed, my own heart might never stop bleeding from the hurt I wrought upon you forever, I mean ‘ I’d bleed forever for you’ literally. It might be really difficult to let myself accept and enjoy God’s forgiveness because I am too afraid to be the one to hurt you, ever!

I also know that I can have very unpopular opinions, and sometimes I try to shove it down the throats of the very people I thought I loved the most without even realizing that I was doing just that. This is really not good, you know.

Again, I also know that somehow, a number of people who love and care about me, say that I think I know it all, as in, that I am very wise in my own eyes. This is in fact what my mamy would tell you about me right now if you really got close to her. You know what Solomon has to say about people with such reports.

Moreover, I’ve been disrespectful to my poor widowed mamy countless times, if I have to be really honest with you. This is really important because you know she is the right- now authority over me.

I could go on and on to show you how perfectly imperfect I am.

These my little imperfections really scared me because I really did not ever want them to jump out from the box and harm you, when the lovey dovey honey moon days were all gone, living behind you, I and of course the real world!

So I told myself that I didn’t have to get married. I told myself that my life had always been all about ministry and my little business. I told myself that if you ever came knocking, I’d lock myself in my ‘singled single’ world. A world that didn’t just represent my most intangible decision but the tangible four walls of the ‘pretty as me’ apartment which I’d get for ‘me’. An apartment which I had begun planning how it’d smell of me, in a manner that every bit and pieces of the elements of its decoration and functionality would ooze my intensions and God’s purpose for me.

I told myself that I’d never yield to the temptations of evolving into a hard woman even though the path I was choosing was a tough one. I told myself I’d love and be happy even in my most ‘singled singleness’. I promised myself to never let you in, even if you were forced to lose yourself by proposing to me on both knees. I convinced myself that brother Paul did it, and it paid off as he is to me, the most fruitful and productive of all apostles.

I had almost signed my decision on the tablet of my heart when I decided to run something that looked like a SWOT on it. I decided to think out all the possible risks and provide very objectively unsentimental contingency plans to them, I mean all of them

The first thing I had to find solutions to was, what I was going to do, should incase I find myself burning from the heat of that time of the month (that thing Brother Paul actually called ‘burning in passion’). You know, Father had helped me with that delicate part of my life really well, even though the heat of that period, can forget to even build up sometimes. You also know that it was way easier tricking oneself into believing that the beautiful delayed gratification was much more rewarding than a cheap instant one. Well, it had always helped to tame me, but I couldn’t come up with what to tell little ‘hot me’ when it was no longer a case of a delayed gratification, but a decision of never- to- be gratified situation. I asked myself what I was going to do when passion came visiting.

I didn’t want to ever bring shame to both Father and our big family, the Kingdom of our God. I hated to imagine that I might even on one of those days, end up being like some of the single and celibate women of the world who really did very ugly things in their apartments. If I ended being such a big fat disgrace, Father wouldn’t be mad at me I know, but I’d always be ashamed for being the family black sheep. This really got me thinking for a number of days but worse still, it really depressed me even more than I was depressed at first.

Yeah, anyone might call me weird but I am not a fan of telling a man that I want to think about his proposal because I always told Father about the men in my life so that I wouldn’t pretend I was taken unawares. I am not also a big fan of pretending to fit into that ‘I am all so surprised that he proposed to me’ screaming stereotypes. So please don’t expect me to be all teary, pop eyed, and mouth covered the day you propose, unless I was taking some drama and pretense classes that day!

Another question that I had to ask myself was how I was going to make my dreams of having a lot of cute boys, and two little fair girls running around, messing the whole place and forcing me to yell, to come true. I had to cook for my babies, do their laundry, do school runs, be at home every single time for them, lull them to sleep, ignore their tantrums, hurt well they didn’t realize they yelled at me, help them with their home works, erase from their little heads the nasty things devil could write in their hearts at school.

I told myself that I was going to adopt a number of children but come to think of it, if abandoned babies were still available, why are there baby factories everywhere, Nigeria for one.Even if I found abandoned babies to call my own, how was I going to experience the bitter sweet and joyful sorrow of pregnancy and labor? If I decided to make my brother and sister’s kids mine as well, and care for all the little friends I have now and the ones I’d meet, what about my joys of motherhood? What about my holy pregnancy and labor? What about those? I saw myself crying at that point because I felt I was really making a really serious and important decision of my life.

One day, while I chewed on those ‘cuds of steel’, I just decided to make a few really simple decisions and of course, clear cut conclusions of myself. I’d been weeping secretly throughout those days, needless to say.

I decided to let myself understand the truth that it wasn’t my self-imposed mind tricks that kept my body sealed these twenty-three years of my life. I remembered that I had even told myself that my chastity was not even for you because I didn’t know what you’d been doing with yours when your hormones came raging. In fact, I didn’t even care one bit, at least then.

I also remembered that when I was just sixteen, I really got scared of having to break the promise I made to myself to keep my virginity for you. I was in an all girls’ boarding school but I knew how cool guys stalked me when I was on holidays and how I was soon going to be entering the uni. I heard then, that there could be really amazing gentlemen on campus, but above that, there was this guy who was in his final year in His university when I was in my final year at sec school, who attended my church at home, and who wouldn’t stop trying to sweep me off my feet then. I really was worried one day at ‘Feddy’ because I wasn’t sure I could trust ‘me’ then- c’mon I was sweet sixteen, pretty and ‘hot’, if you understand what I mean. I remembered crying before Father and telling Him about my fears. In fact, I actually told Him that it was about a covenant between myself and Himself. I told Him then that He just had to keep my virginity for you no matter what happened, where I went, who I met, what I did. I don’t even remember what my own side of the deal was supposed to be but Father is always a good Guy, you know.

So I decided that Father was good and that He literally kept me for Himself and not even you. My virginity had never been yours but Father’s, I concluded. I was comforted by the truth that He would never fail Himself as far as my body was concerned. The libido mystery was solved, right?

What about my own joys of ‘mummyhood’?

I reminded myself that those biological and physical indicators of motherhood had never counted in eternal scheme of things. I decided that I was going to continue nurturing and nourishing the young hearts that Father placed in my hands daily. That I’d adopt as many as I could find and give ample care to each one of them. I decided that if peradventure they ever asked me of ‘daddy’, I’d tell them the whole truth, cry together if we had to, fight together, love daily, and grow together. I felt happy just for a moment but the nagging frequency of your heart’s vibrations started haunting me.

This letter’s really getting longer than I expected but somehow, I feel you don’t mind because you’ve actually patiently read and studied such long letters as the ones written by Brother Paul. So I know you’d enjoy taking note of every pen strokes of mine even more, because it’s me, right?

When the thoughts of you tortured me, I just decided to resignedly trick myself into believing that I was going to let you in, at least for the time being. I had to give myself a little freedom to be happy even though it felt risky. When I decided that I cared enough about how you felt to marry you, I felt a glimmer of joy for the very first time in a long while.

Soon after then, one very nice day, very very recently, Father beamed a truthful light on my heart so uncertain. It was that very day, few days before Christmas, that I made up my mind with a certain certainty to say ‘YES’ to you whenever God caused the eyes of your heart to find me.

Father reminded me that it was only He who knew the times I screwed up ugly the most- all the private and public messes I made, yet it was and would always be He that would keep loving me the most. He reminded me that He never complained about the bullets he always received from my loveless heart. In fact, He had caught all the bullets that I could ever shoot at Him when He chose me over His own very self on the cross. He denied Jesus who was Himself just to receive me eternally. It wasn’t like I was hearing that for the first time but what struck me silly was when Father told me that, accepting to marry you, was one way I could really prove to Him that I meant it when I said that I trusted and had Faith in His love.

This, He said was important because He told me that He formed you from the time the world began to trust Him by catching any stray bullets that came from me. He didn’t tell me that you’d not hurt, but he told me that I could afford to trust that you both would be fine because He didn’t intend my imperfections to make you bitter but to make you better. I actually beamed with a joyful realization when Father told me by His Spirit, that loving me was and would always be a big part of your life’s purpose, and that accepting your love just the very same way I accepted His own and submitting total to your leading just the very same way I submit to His, was and would always be my truest act of Faith, love, worship and devotion to Him.

Father told me to allow myself to rest in your love and bask in it without any forms of fear.

Father told me to not bother myself with how you’d love me just the way He does because you would always be made of 100% of His Spirit, and that you are just as He, loving me in flesh, all that I had to do was trust and be comfortable with your love the very same way I would His, because the love is simply 100% the same.

Father told me that if I really wanted to understand what Jesus had and still has with His church (this is too clichéd though) then I must have to let myself to take the bold steps of making my home in your strong loving arms.

You know, I was made to remember that the church does not have to do anything to earn Jesus’ love and devotion. She didn’t have to make herself right for Him, she could never, no matter how hard she tried, but He made the church right by giving up Himself for her and washing her daily and purifying her by His own very Love and Grace. He justified the church once and for all and expects her to find her true meaning by accepting and enjoying His love and her unearned right standing with Him while following Him keenly and giddily. Father told me that mistakes or no mistakes, of course there would be plenty of mistakes; your own very words, the totality your very person, the man you are and would evolve to be, would be all that there would ever be to evoke my beauty, make perfect my imperfections, and even make me right in your eyes.

It was at that very moment that I enjoyed the feelings that came with the sweet tears those truths brought to me, and I practically tore up all my ‘singled singleness’ plans aka celibacy for good and forever. I thought of tearing the yellow sheet where I wrote them but I just changed my mind so that I’d show you sometime. I think you might find it funny then. I’d keep it safe, I promise- for the sake of laughing together though.

I have been happy ever since then because Father finally melted the ‘cud of steel’ that wouldn’t just go down.

Whew, this letter is officially too long and I’m afraid that I haven’t even scratched the surface of what inspired me to write to you. Nevertheless, you need to go back to your work, so I’d rather write you again soon.

Your very own,

Woman.

P.S. Please do not mistake this for the sweet little truths father told me about you.