Finding Closure

 

Maybe You’re Closer to Your Miracle Than You Think

For so long, you had no doubts, no fears — just a fervent faith in what God has assured you through His Word.

You rejoiced in your tribulations, sharing earnestly with others as though you were already living in your miracles. Your friends couldn’t understand why you felt so much joy despite the storms in your life.

You cared deeply for your neighbour’s children, your nieces and nephews — you were everyone’s favourite aunty or uncle because of the warmth, generosity, and light that radiated from you. Everyone waited for your opinion before making important decisions. Sometimes, your words became the confirmations others needed to move forward with a project, relationship, or calling.

You continued steadfastly in prayers and thanksgiving — from NSPPD, to the Hallelujah Challenge, to the fiery prayers of Mountain of Fire and every other praise and prayer gathering within your environment and online. With this, your faith bloomed. Your fellowship with God grew stronger. Your fire burned bright — the devil didn’t dare come close.

Your phone became a hotline for emergency, immediate, and future-oriented prayers. You were always ready to intercede because your entire being was sold out to God. The best part? These prayer sessions were constantly followed by testimonies.

You felt victorious, elated, and grateful. Your devotion to God flowed smoothly under His grace. You were exactly where you believed you should be — living heaven on earth.

Then suddenly, somewhere, somehow, a devil-fashioned and manipulated human spoke a word that pierced through your spirit. The words slithered down your spine, reverberated through your mind, and exploded in your soul.

Those poisonous words wrecked your faith. They awakened an old, buried sensitivity — the feeling that God had grown silent, distant, and withdrawn from His promises to you.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t faced mockery before — you had. You’d always said, “Lord, forgive them.” But this time, it hit differently. You felt ripped apart like the head of John the Baptist, naked and ashamed like Adam and Eve, mocked and impatient like Sarah.

You felt torn in pieces like Jacob — fruitless, frustrated, and trapped in a cycle of negativity. Then it dawned on you: years had passed in this web of delay, stagnancy, and disappointment.

You looked at yourself in the mirror — tears in your eyes. Beyond your outward beauty, reality struck: no ring, no children, still squatting and your spouse still burdened by responsibilities you wished you could share. It hit harder that your children — the third generation — were still in public schools like you and your father once were. You had sworn it would be different for them, yet here you are — still stuck.

Your brilliant, God-given idea still sits unused in your pouch. You remember when someone offered to buy it for a few million, and you refused because you believed it was destined for something greater. When you declined, the PR sneered and said, “Your village people are merciless. Oga, you go suffer.” But you had faith — faith strong enough to move mountains.

Now, the pain hits hard. It starts in your throat, settles in your chest, and makes it hard to breathe. You want to let it go, but it lingers — choking you in the silence of your room, with no one to rescue you. You feel small, defeated, and useless. You can’t pray. You can’t sing. Your mind is lost in confusion.

Wait!

This is the moment when your wilderness experience is complete. Heaven has already passed the final verdict — your answers are here. But just as it was with Jesus, the enemy shows up with a final test, hoping to make you miss your miracle.

So he sends someone close — a vulnerable parent, sibling, friend, or even a prayer partner — to taunt and discourage you. His goal is to stain your heart, make you unworthy in your own eyes, and rob you of your Samuel, your Boaz, your visibility and your promised land.

So, guard your heart.

Surely, there is an end, and the expectation of the righteous shall not be cut short (Proverbs 23:18).

For the Lord is a sun and a shield; He bestows favour and honour. No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly. (Psalm 84:11)