DAVID'S pov
I took a deep breath, my voice quieting as I finished recounting the story that had shaped my life. The memories of those painful years, of brokenness and redemption, were vivid in my mind, but as I looked at Shola, I knew the weight of my words had hit him hard. I saw his eyes, still wide with disbelief, his brow furrowed as if trying to wrap his mind around it all.
For a moment, the world around us seemed to still. The car's engine hummed softly, but it felt distant, irrelevant. I felt the full weight of what I had shared the journey, the transformation, and the purpose I had found. But more than that, I could feel the shift in Shola's heart as he processed it. He had heard me, but was he really listening? Was he ready to believe that even someone like him, someone who had been through so much, could find redemption?
I shook my head lightly, snapping myself back into the present. I looked at him, my voice thick with the emotion that had been building in me for years.
"You see," I said softly, the words coming slowly but firmly. "My life was hard too. I came out of prison, lost, broken, unsure of where to go. But then I met with those pastors, and... and the rest? That's history. I preach now. I heal. I capture souls in God's name."
Shola was silent, his gaze heavy, distant, as if he were still processing the storm of emotions that I had just laid out before him. His hands rested on his knees, his body stiff as if he were trying to hold himself together, but I could see the trembling in his shoulders, the way his breath came in shallow gasps. His eyes flickered with uncertainty, his thoughts swirling.
He finally exhaled, a long, defeated sigh that seemed to drain the strength from him. Slowly, he looked down at his hands, the weight of his past pulling at him.
"So you mean... God will accept me?" His voice was barely above a whisper, broken and fragile, as if the question itself was an admission of his deepest fear. "I... I've done so much. I don't know if I can ever be clean enough."
The weight of his doubt hit me like a physical blow. His pain was raw, his past clawing at him, threatening to drown him in shame. I leaned forward, my heart aching for him. I could see so much of myself in him, in the way he questioned if he could ever be worthy of forgiveness, of love.
I placed my hand gently on his shoulder, my grip firm yet comforting, like a lifeline in the storm of his thoughts.
"Yes, Shola," I said, my voice thick with conviction. "God will accept you. You have done nothing that His love can't wash away. No sin is too great. No mistake is too deep. I've been there. I was lost too. I was a prisoner, not just in a cell, but in my own heart. But God... He reached down. He pulled me out of the darkness. And He will do the same for you."
Shola's eyes welled up with tears, his breath catching in his throat. He wiped his eyes quickly, but it didn't stop the flood from coming. He looked at me, his face a mixture of disbelief and hope, as if the words I spoke were both a lifeline and an impossible dream.
"But how?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "How can He forgive someone like me? I don't even know where to begin. I've hurt so many... so many people."
I could hear the desperation in his voice, feel the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. It was the same weight I had carried for so long, the same burden of regret and shame that had kept me chained to my past. But now, I understood. I knew what he needed to hear. I needed to give him what I had been given hope.
I leaned in closer, my voice a steady, unwavering promise.
"God's love is bigger than your mistakes, Shola. His grace is bigger than your past. It doesn't matter what you've done or where you've been. All that matters is that you come to Him. He's waiting for you. All you have to do is trust Him. Take that first step, and He will carry you the rest of the way."
The tears fell freely now, rolling down his cheeks. But I saw something else in his eyes something fragile but real. Hope. He hadn't fully accepted it yet, but I could see the walls inside him beginning to crack. He was starting to believe, just a little, that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for him after all.
I squeezed his shoulder, offering him the comfort I had once longed for, the assurance that I had found in God's love.
"It's okay," I whispered softly. "You don't have to be perfect. God isn't asking you to fix everything. He's just asking you to come as you are. You're not alone in this. I'll walk with you every step of the way."
Shola nodded slowly, his hands trembling, but I could see the slightest shift in his expression. He didn't have all the answers, but the weight on his heart had begun to lift, even if just a little. For the first time, he was beginning to believe that there was more for him, that God's grace was truly enough.
"God loves you, Shola," I said again, my voice full of certainty. "And He's ready for you. He's been waiting for you. All you have to do is say yes."
We sat in silence for a while, the car's engine humming softly, the world around us seemingly fading away as Shola processed everything I had shared. But there was a light in his eyes now, a glimmer of something new something that hadn't been there before.
And in that moment, I knew that the journey ahead for him, for both of us, had just begun.
I could see the hesitation in Shola's eyes, his mind still working through everything I had just told him, but there was a quiet desperation in his voice as he spoke again, softer this time.
"I don't know, David... I don't even know what to do with all of this. My mind is spinning."
I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, the weight of the moment pressing on both of us. I wanted to offer him something tangible, a sense of comfort and hope he could hold on to, something more than just words.
"Come home with me," I said, my voice gentle but insistent. "Spend the night. Eat something, relax. You've been through a lot, and I don't want you to face it all at once. Tomorrow, we'll talk more, and I'll help you figure things out. But tonight, just be with me. We'll take it one step at a time."
Shola looked at me for a long moment, his face still troubled but somehow softened by my words. He nodded slowly, the weight of the offer sinking in, the promise of a safe place to be, to just breathe.
"You sure about that?" he asked, his voice uncertain, but there was a flicker of gratitude beneath it.
I gave him a firm nod, smiling with as much reassurance as I could muster. "Of course. You're not alone in this. I've got your back, always. Come on, let's just go home. We'll figure everything else out tomorrow."
He hesitated for a brief second, then sighed, letting the tension go as he gave me a small, tentative smile.
"Alright. I'll come with you."
I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the emotional toll of everything he had been carrying. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but tonight, at least, he wouldn't have to walk it alone.
I started the car, the engine humming as we pulled away. The night was still, quiet, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like there was hope on the horizon. I knew the journey wouldn't be simple, but tonight, at least, we could rest. Tomorrow, we'd take the next step together.
When we got home.
"Daddy, Daddy!" Godsgift called, her small hands waving in the air as she sprinted toward me.
"Hey, Shola, these are my kids," I said with a proud smile, looking at him as the kids excitedly surrounded him.
"Godsgift, Joy, Joseph, this is Shola," I introduced them warmly. "Shola, these are my kids."
"Good evening, sir," they said shyly, their eyes wide with curiosity as they glanced up at him.
"Good evening," Shola responded with a gentle smile, looking a bit surprised at the warmth and innocence of the kids. There was a softness in his gaze that I hadn't noticed before, as if something inside of him was beginning to heal just by being around us.
We all sat down for a simple but comforting meal. The kids chattered on, asking questions and sharing stories from their day, which allowed us to unwind in the company of family. Shola seemed to relax, his shoulders dropping from the tension that had built up over the past few days. As the night drew on, the house grew quieter, and soon enough, we all retreated to bed.
The next morning, as the kids got ready for school, I sat down with Shola at the kitchen table. My thoughts were heavy, but I needed to know if he was truly ready for the change I hoped for him.
I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could finish my sentence, Shola spoke up, his voice steady but filled with a new sense of resolve.
"I'm truly ready," he said, his eyes meeting mine. "I want to give my life to Christ."
I felt a rush of relief and joy at his words. This was the turning point I had hoped for, and my heart swelled with gratitude.
Without hesitation, I stood up and reached for his hand, pulling him into a prayer. Together, we knelt, and I prayed for strength, guidance, and the courage to move forward on this new path.
When we finished, Shola looked up at me, his face shining with a quiet happiness. "Thank you," he said softly.
I smiled, but there was more I needed to say. I had a plan in mind, something that could offer him a new direction.
"As I was about to say before you interrupted me," I began, "I want to help you get started. I'll give you a business, something to build your future on."
Shola's eyes widened, and before I knew it, he was kneeling in front of me, his hands clasped in gratitude. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" His voice broke with emotion, and I could see how deeply this meant to him.
"You deserve this, Shola," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "This is just the beginning. You're not alone in this. We'll do it together, one step at a time."
Tears filled his eyes as he stood up, and I could see that, for the first time in a long while, he felt like he had hope, a purpose, a reason to keep going.
As he stood there, smiling through the tears, I knew this was the moment that would change everything. Together, we were going to build something better.