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Chika Nduka, Lagos (2026)

28/09/2026

At 2:17 a.m., something went wrong inside the spacecraft and nobody knew why.

Commander Daniel Hayes was the first to notice it.

He was staring at the control panel when a small red light began blinking.

Once, twice and then continuously.

Pim… Pim… Pim…

“What's that?” Sarah asked.

Daniel didn't answer but leaned closer to the screen.

The spacecraft had suddenly lost communication with Earth.

Suddenly, the lights went off and for three seconds, the entire cabin was swallowed by darkness.

Nobody moved and the emergency lights came on.

Sarah looked at Daniel.

“Daniel…”

“I know.” He muttered.

“What happened?”

“I don't know.”

Across from them, Michael was desperately trying to reconnect the communication system.

Nothing worked and he tried again and again yet nothing.

Without warning, something even more frightening happened.

The spacecraft began drifting.

Slowly, it drifted away from its planned course.

Sarah looked through the window and what she saw made her blood run cold.

The earth was getting smaller and smaller.

They were drifting deeper into the darkness.

“Daniel, we're moving away from Earth.”

“I can see that.”

“Can we stop it?”

Daniel stared at the controls and his silence answered her.

The alarm started screaming.

Pim! Pim! Pim! Pim!

The cabin shook violently and Michael grabbed the side of his seat.

“We're losing power!”

Sarah began checking the emergency systems.

“Nothing is responding!”

Daniel tried to contact the control station one more time.

“Houston, this is Odyssey.

Do you copy?”

There was absolute silence.

“Houston, do you copy?”

He tried again but only static answered him.

Then the static stopped and there was complete silence.

The silence made the three astronauts suddenly aware of how alone they were.

There was no voices, no communication and no sound from Earth.

It was just the enormous darkness outside.

Sarah began to cry quietly while Michael lowered his head.

Daniel looked through the window and saw the millions of stars scattered across the darkness.

Suddenly, something occurred to him.

They had spent years studying space.

They had calculated trajectories, built machines, mastered technology and prepared for emergencies.

But here they were, floating inside a tiny spacecraft in the middle of a universe so enormous that none of them could comprehend it.

And for the first time, Daniel wasn't thinking about science, he was thinking about God.

“God…” He closed his eyes.

Sarah looked at him and Michael followed.

Nobody questioned him but they all became sober.

Each of them acknowledged the One who had created the vastness surrounding them.

The One who created the stars and the earth they were desperately trying to return to.

The One whose presence wasn't limited by distance.

Suddenly, something strange happened.

The fear in their hearts began to disappear as they submit their fate in the hand of the creator.

The spacecraft was still malfunctioning and they were still drifting.

They still didn't know whether they would survive.

But suddenly, their hearts became calm.

A peace they could not explain settled over the cabin.

Pim!

The alarm stopped.

Daniel opened his eyes and the red light went off.

The control panel flickered.

One system came back and then another.

Michael stared at the screen.

“Daniel…”

“What?”

“The communication system.”

A signal had returned and the Earth was calling.

Sarah covered her mouth and for several seconds, none of them spoke.

“God is still here.” Daniel whispered.

Sometimes, we become so busy trying to understand everything that we forget there is Someone greater than our understanding.

We trust our knowledge, our strength, plans and technology but there are moments when life reminds us that we are not in control of everything.

That is why acknowledging God is so important.

It is not because we will never face frightening moments or nothing bad will ever happen.

But because even in the darkest place, God is still God.

When you know who holds the universe,

you don't have to know what tomorrow holds.

God is enough!

Follow my page 👉 Chika Nduka to read wonderful and inspiring stories.

27/09/2026

My cousin Rosalind had five boys.

When those boys were little, nobody would have believed that one day, they would become the reason why people would look at their mother with so much respect.

Back then, Rosa was simply a struggling woman trying to keep her family alive.

Her husband was alive but in many ways, she was raising those children alone.

He would not contribute money for food or pay school fees.

Medical bills were Rosa's problem and even when the children needed clothes, books or sandals, she had to figure it out herself.

On top of the whole struggle, he beat her over every slightest provocation and wouldn't hesitate to throw her things outside.

Rosa had no tangible business fetching her money.

She was from a humble background and had no wealthy relatives sponsoring her.

She simply fried akara by the roadside.

Every morning, she would wake up early, soak her beans, grind them, prepare the akara and sit by the roadside waiting for customers.

Sometimes, the boys would sit nearby doing their homework while their mother sold akara.

There were days she barely made enough to feed them but she kept going.

She would constantly assure them that even though she does not have enough to give them, that she would do everything within her power to make sure they went to school.

And those boys listened and worked harder in school.

They were not only listening to her, they were also watching the things happening around them.

They saw their mother struggle.

They saw her cry quietly when bills became too much.

They saw her come home tired from the roadside.

And they saw their father living his own life without bothering much about the family.

Years passed and the little boys grew into young men.

By God's grace, Rosa became the mother of a Catholic Reverend father.

Another of her son became a doctor.

Another was an automobile engineer while the remaining two built successful businesses and became business moguls in their own right.

Suddenly, the same woman who once sat by the roadside frying akara became a woman people respected.

Her children changed her life.

The woman who once struggled to pay school fees could now sit down and watch her children take care of things she once cried over.

But there was one person who didn't seem to understand that something had changed.

Their father!

As the children became successful, he suddenly became interested in being close to the family.

He started acting differently.

He became nicer and wanted to be around them.

He wanted people to know that he was their father but there was a problem, the children had grown up.

And children may forget many things, but they rarely forget what they witnessed repeatedly in their childhood.

They remembered their mother's akara stand.

They remembered the unpaid bills.

They remembered the school fees she struggled to pay and the nights she cried brokenly.

They remembered who was there and who wasn't there for them during their childhood.

So although they never insulted their father, they never developed that deep bond with him either.

He expected the relationship to suddenly become warm because they were now successful but relationships doesn't work that way.

You cannot disappear from a child's life when they need you most and expect money and success to erase the years you were absent.

The man became bitter and began telling people stories about Rosalind.

He tried to make people believe that his wife had turned the children against him.

He complained that his children no longer cared about him but those who knew the family knew the truth.

Nobody had to poison the children's minds.

They had eyes, they were there and saw everything themselves.

Dear fathers, please hear me.

Your children are watching you.

Don't wait until they become successful before you remember that you are their father.

Don't wait until they become doctors, engineers, reverend fathers or business owners before you suddenly want to be part of their lives.

If you are separated from their mother, you are still their father.

If you are divorced, you are still their father.

Whatever problem exists between you and their mother, please don't make the children pay for it.

Pay their school fees when you can.

Ask if they have eaten.

Take care of their medical needs.

Call and visit them.

Know what is happening in their lives.

Be there when they are struggling not only when they succeed.

One day, those little children will become adults.

And when they look back at their childhood, they will remember who stood beside them when life was difficult.

Don't spend tomorrow living in regrets over the choices you made.

Those children are the seeds of your own loins.

Water them while they are still growing because you may one day discover that the greatest thing you lost was not their money or their success, it was their hearts.

If you enjoyed reading this story, please follow my page 👉 Chika Nduka to read more wonderful and inspiring stories.

26/09/2026

LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH

SEVEN

I decided to leave the house for a while after eating my Golden morn.

I needed fresh air, to clear my head.

Most importantly, I needed to stay away from everyone before another argument started.

I dressed up and picked up my handbag.

But before I could leave the room, my phone suddenly rang and it was my brother.

“Hello, mi'darling.”

“Cecee, how are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don't sound fine.”

“Who told you?” I laughed.

“Your voice.”

"Don't mind my voice." I laughed again.

For the first time in days, I was having a normal conversation with somebody who wasn't accusing me of something.

My brother started telling me a funny story about something that had happened at home and I couldn't help laughing.

“Stop it!” I laughed.

“You're still the same person.”

“Which person?”

“The Celine that used to laugh too much.”

"Awwwnnn." I cooed.

“I miss you baby sis.”

"And I miss you more, mi'darling."

A shadow fell over the corridor and I heard a slight movement outside the door.

I didn't need a soothsayer to remind me that my mother-in-law was eavesdropping on our conversation.

I continued talking but this time, I deliberately made my voice even more cheerful.

After a few more minutes, I ended the call.

I picked up my handbag and opened the bedroom door.

The moment I stepped out, I saw my mother-in-law lurking in the passage.

Her eyes met mine and she literally shot daggers at me with her eyes.

I knew she had heard everything but I pretended not to notice.

I picked up the car keys and walked towards the door.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“I'm going out.” I stopped.

"To where?”

“I just want to take a walk.”

She looked at me suspiciously but before I could reach the door, she stretched out her hand.

“Give me the car keys.”

“Why?” I looked at her.

“Because that is my son's car.”

"Hmmm." I stared at her.

“Don't step out of this compound with that key." She insisted.

I dropped the keys on the table without arguing and walked out.

I didn't even know where I was going.

I had nowhere to go but I simply wanted to escape from that house for a while.

As I walked down the street, I felt strangely lighter.

My phone rang again and it was the school management.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Madam Celine.”

“Good morning.”

“Please, don't forget to collect your children's school fees receipt and the other receipts when you come to pick them up this afternoon.”

“School fees receipt?” I asked in confusion.

“Yes.”

“Did somebody pay the school fees?” I stopped walking.

There was a brief silence before the voice returned.

“Yes, ma.”

“Who?”

“Your husband.”

“George?” My mouth fell open.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“This morning.”

“How did he suddenly pay?”

The woman laughed lightly.

“Madam, he didn't really have much choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“When he brought the children this morning, the proprietor reminded him that their fees had been due for quite some time.”

I listened silently.

“He was held there until he made the payment.”

“So he paid?” I almost laughed.

“Yes, ma.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Don't forget the receipts when you come.”

“I won't.”

I ended the call.

I stood there for a moment and a faint smile rippled from my mouth.

George had paid after all because the school forced him to do the needful.

I shook my head and continued walking.

For the first time that morning, I felt a little relieved.

At least the children's school fees were no longer hanging over my head.

I walked slowly down the street, looking at the shops and people passing by.

I wasn't going anywhere in particular, I just wanted to breathe.

I had barely reached the corner of the street when I noticed a familiar face.

The woman was standing a short distance away, talking on the phone.

I stopped and stared her way.

Just then, she turned and our eyes met.

"Amaka?" I called tentatively.

"Celine?" Her eyes widened in disbelief.

She was an old colleague from the days when I was still working and I hadn't seen her in years.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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26/09/2026

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26/09/2026

SHE SAID IMO WOMEN DON'T MAKE GOOD WIVES

The first time my fiance introduced me to his mother, the woman looked at me from head to toe and said something I will never forget.

“I don't like this girl.”

She said it directly to her son but she didn't lower her voice.

I was sitting right there and my fiance looked embarrassed.

“Mummy…”

But she waved him off.

“I am only telling you the truth now so that you won't blame me later.”

I swallowed hard and managed to smile but she turned to me.

“Don't even try to impress me. It won't work.”

“Mummy, please, what have I done?” I asked in confusion.

“You don't need to do anything.

Hence you are from Imo State, I won't allow my son to marry you.”

I almost laughed because I thought she was joking but she wasn't.

“We are Anambra people.” She continued.

“Imo State women don't make good wives.”

I was stunned but before I could express my feelings, her eyes went to my fingernails and eyelashes.

“Look at these long nails and eyelashes.

Haa!

Chuka, this one will only be good in bed.

She won't even know how to boil water, not to talk of preparing good onugbu soup.”

My face became hot.

I wanted to defend myself, to tell her that she knew absolutely nothing about me but when I looked at my fiance, I saw how uncomfortable he looked so I swallowed the words in my mouth.

“It's okay, Mummy.” I simply said.

It wasn't okay but I didn't want my first meeting with the woman who could one day become my mother-in-law to turn into a battle.

When we returned to Abuja, I was still thinking about everything she had said when my phone rang.

It was my fiance's mother and I don't even know how she got my number.

“Listen to me, Chioma.” She began without greeting me.

“Stay away from my son.”

“Mummy, I don't understand what I've done to you.”

“You don't need to do anything.

I know the kind of woman you are.”

She declared and hung up.

Anyway, love conquered every barrier and I eventually became Chuka's wife.

I became Mama's daughter-in-law but becoming her daughter-in-law did not make me her favourite person.

If anything, it made things worse.

She criticized the way I cooked.

She complained about the way I dressed.

If I sent her something, she would find something wrong with it.

If I called to check on her, sometimes she wouldn't answer.

I refused to match her with the same energy.

I told myself that I didn't need to prove that an Imo woman could be a good wife.

I only needed to be myself.

Whenever I could, I bought her things.

I sent foodstuff, bought wrappers and occasionally checked on her.

During the rainy season, I once travelled from Abuja to the village just to help her with some farm work.

She barely acknowledged it.

However , my husband's two younger brothers began to get married.

And interestingly, both women were from Anambra State.

Mama was overjoyed.

“This is what I wanted.

These ones are my own people.”

She welcomed them warmly and praised them openly.

For a while, I thought perhaps I was the problem after all until reality began to reveal itself.

The first daughter-in-law couldn't tolerate Mama's constant interference.

They argued over almost everything.

The second one was even more outspoken.

She would tell Mama exactly what she thought of her.

One afternoon, an argument between Mama and the youngest daughter-in-law became so heated.

Mama raised her hand to slap her but she hijacked her hand and threw it away.

The entire compound went silent.

Mama was shocked and so was everyone.

After that incident, their relationship became almost unbearable.

The women who Mama had once praised because they were from her own state were now the very people she complained about constantly.

Slowly, I stopped being the daughter-in-law she complained about and became the daughter-in-law she called when she needed help.

One afternoon, Mama had an accident.

She was rushed to the hospital but her two daughter-in-law who lived closer to her refused to stay with her.

I travelled from Abuja to the East just to take care of her.

I fed, bathe her and did all the things she needed assistance to carry out.

I stayed awake when she couldn't sleep and whenever she complained about pain, I called the nurses.

I did everything I could until she recovered and was eventually discharged.

On the day we were leaving the hospital, she sat quietly in the car.

For several minutes, she didn't say anything.

Suddenly , she reached for my hand and I looked at her.

“My daughter…” Her eyes filled with tears.

“I am sorry.” She squeezed my hand.

I didn't know what to say so she continued.

“I hated you because of where you came from.

I thought because you were from Imo State, you could never be a good wife to my son.” She shook her head

“But you have shown me something I was too blind to see.

Character has no state of origin.”

I couldn't hold back my tears and she pulled me into her arms.

“I am sorry for everything I did to you.

Chioma, you're the blessing I almost missed."

I hugged her tightly and we wept together.

In that moment, I realized something very important.

Mama had spent years looking for a good daughter-in-law by checking her state of origin but when life tested the women she had chosen based on that same belief, it was the woman she had rejected who stood beside her.

I could have reminded her of every insult but I didn't.

I simply hugged her because she had learned something too.

Sometimes, the greatest proof of who you are is not what you say when people praise you.

It is who you become when people have given you every reason to hate them.

Mama once looked at my nails and eyelashes and decided what kind of woman I was.

She never bothered to look at my heart.

That is the danger of prejudice.

When we judge people before knowing them, we don't just deny them a fair chance, we can also miss the very person God may have sent into our lives to love us when everyone else walks away.

There are good people from every tribe and there are also difficult people from every tribe.

Every tribe have faithful wives and unfaithful wives.

Kind mothers-in-law and difficult mothers-in-law exist in all tribes.

Good neighbours and terrible neighbours also abounds.

Character does not carry a state of origin.

So the next time you hear yourself saying, “People from that place are like this…”

Stop for a moment because you may be judging millions of people because of the actions of a few.

And worse still, you may be pushing away a good person simply because of the place written on their birth certificate.

Follow my page 👉 Chika Nduka if you enjoyed reading this story.

25/09/2026

LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH

SIX

I walked away without saying a word after George slapped me.

I simply walked into the master bedroom and shut the door behind me.

I expected George to follow me and apologize but he didn't.

Instead, he turned his attention to the children.

“Don't cry.” He told my youngest.

“Don't worry about Mummy.

She will be fine.”

I stood behind the closed door, holding my cheek.

I couldn't believe it.

George had been displaying violent attitude towards me lately but I never expected him to slap me in front of our children and his mother.

The worst is that he carried on as if everything is alright.

A few minutes later, I heard plates and cutlery clattering as they continued eating.

Later, I heard footsteps approaching and the door opened.

George and his mother walked into the bedroom and I stared at them.

Neither of them said anything but simply settled themselves at the edge of the bed.

I immediately understood what they were planning.

They wanted me out.

After everything that had happened, they had decided that I was the one who should leave the matrimonial room.

I refused to move but lay quietly on the bed while they remained there.

Suddenly, we heard one of the children crying from the other room.

My mother-in-law looked at me.

“Celine, go and check that child.”

I didn't move.but turned my face to the other side.

“Did you hear me?” She asked in an irritating tone.

“Yes, I heard you.”

“I said go and check your child.”

“I won't.” I snorted and turned back to her.

She stared at me in disbelief.

“What did you say?”

“I said I won't.” I repeated.

"What sort of mother are you?" Her face hardened.

“You are the child's mother.”

“And you are the grandmother.” I retorted.

She stared at me for a few seconds and then stood up.

“George, let's go and check the child.”

George immediately stood up and the two of them walked out of the bedroom together.

The moment they disappeared, I sprang up.

I quickly dragged my mother-in-law's bags out of the room.

One after another, I carried everything outside and dropped them near the door.

Afterwards, I rushed back inside and locked the door.

I stood behind it, breathing heavily.

A few moments later, I heard footsteps approaching.

“Celine!” George banged on the door.

“Open this door!” He commanded.

"Go away!" I fired back.

“Celine!” My mother-in-law was furious.

“What kind of nonsense is this?

Open this door immediately!"

I ignored her and sat on the bed.

“Celine, open the door.” George banged again.

I still refused to answer him.

For once, I'm standing on my ground and wasn't going to allow anybody to push me out of my own matrimonial room.

My phone rang and I looked at the screen.

It was my husband's elder sister, Aunty Sarah.

"Hello?" I answered.

“Celine, what have you done again?”

I listened quietly but refused to talk.

“I heard you locked Mummy outside the room.”

“Aunty Sarah, let me ask you something.” I said and took a deep breath.

“What?”

“If it were your own mother-in-law, would you allow her to occupy your matrimonial room?”

She became silent.

I didn't wait for her answer and ended the call.

The knocking continued for some time and eventually, it stopped.

That night, I slept in my matrimonial room alone.

The next morning, when I opened the door, I realized that my mother-in-law had settled herself in one of the guest rooms.

I didn't say anything but simply walked past her.

I refused to do anything, even to prepare breakfast or get the children ready for school.

I stayed in my room.

For once, I wanted to see what would happen if I stopped carrying everything.

Soon, I heard movement around the house.

My mother-in-law got the children ready while George assisted her.

They dressed the children, packed their bags and made sure they were okay.

Before leaving for work, George transferred money to his mother and instructed her to use it and stock the kitchen.

“How much is it?” I heard her ask.

“It's enough to stock the kitchen. Buy whatever the children needed.”

“Thank you, my son.” She returned.

“I'll drop the children at school myself.”

I heard the children say goodbye to their grandmother and soon enough, I heard the sound of George's car leaving the compound.

I remained on my bed.

For a few minutes, I simply stared at the ceiling.

I smiled satisfactorily as I heard my mother-in-law arranging the things they scattered while preparing the kids for school.

For the first time in a long time, I realized that when I stopped doing everything, they found a way to do it themselves.

The children still went to school and the kitchen would still be stocked.

The house was still standing even without me.

Suddenly, it dawned on me that maybe I had been doing too much.

They had become so used to me carrying everything that they had forgotten I was also human.

I sat up slowly and went to the kitchen.

My mother-in-law was busy washing the dishes when I brought out my pack of Goldern morn.

She stared murderously at me but I laughed loudly, smacking my lips as I walked out hugging my flask of hot water and Golden morn.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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25/09/2026

I remember when we were still in the village.

Starting fire to cook was not just cooking, it was full blown war 😂

One day, I wanted to cook so I went outside, arranged the firewood very well and started the fire.

The fire caught for a few seconds and I smiled.

Before I could even turn around to get a pot, the fire disappeared and only smoke remained.

I added more sticks but nothing.

I added dry leaves and the thing smoked even more.

At this point, I bent down and started blowing the fire with all my strength.

I blew until my cheeks were paining me and my eyes started watering.

I wiped my eyes and tried again.

The fire looked at me, nodded and continued smoking.

I became angry and scattered the whole firewood.

I arranged it again and it still refused to catch.

At this point, the smoke had entered my eyes so much that I was now crying seriously.

Anybody passing by would think I was mourning somebody.

Meanwhile, I was just fighting with firewood.

Finally, I stood up and addressed the fire.

“If you don't want to burn, I'll rather render you useless.”

I carried a bucket of water and poured everything on the fire.

Ssssssssssshhh!

That was the only time the stubborn thing finally made a proper sound.

I looked at the dead fire and the dead fire looked at me.

We both knew who had won.

I went inside, sat down in one corner and started crying.

Looking back now, I don't even know how our mothers used to light those fires so effortlessly.

They would come outside, arrange three sticks, blow twice and WHOOSH!

Meanwhile, when it came to my turn, the thing would suddenly develop a mind of its own.

You may never understand the meaning of frustration until you've had this terrible experience.😂

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25/09/2026

Glad to be back.

My writing device got bad while my phone subsequently went blind.

Sorry for the inconveniences.

Please subscribe to my page if you love what I do on this space.

Your support would go a long way to boost my morale.

Good evening wonderful people of God ♥️

24/09/2026

My twelve-year-old nephew came to visit us, and the following day, he decided to visit one of our relatives who lived in another town.

The problem was that the road was terrible.

It had rained heavily the previous night and the road had become almost impossible to pass.

I tried to discourage him but he insisted on going.

Just then, my eight-year-old son suddenly dressed up.

“Mummy, I want to follow him.”

“Follow him where?” I looked at him.

“To Aunty Adanna house.”

“No.” My answer was firm.

“You are not going anywhere.

That place is too far and look at the condition of the road.”

But my son had already made up his mind.

“Mummy, I will go.”

“No, you won't.”

“Mummy, please!”

“I said no!”

He started crying and his voice became louder.

He begged, pleaded and promised to be careful.

At some point, I spanked him because I was already getting frustrated with his stubbornness.

But even after the spanking, he still insisted.

“Mummy, I want to go!”

"Fine, you can go." I Eventually gave up.

They left together.

Four hours later, I heard the sound of the gate.

I looked outside and saw them looking ridiculous.

My nephew's clothes were covered in mud.

My son's clothes were soaked and dirty and they both looked exhausted.

I shook my head in mockery.

When I touched my son's forehead, I realized that he was burning with fever.

“Mummy…” His voice was weak.

“I would have listened to you.”

I said nothing and stared at him.

“That place was very far. I fell twice on the road.”

I looked at my nephew and he lowered his head.

“Aunty, we would have listened to you.”

He paused and I nodded.

“The road was too bad and the person we went to visit wasn't even around.”

I almost laughed out loud.

“So what did you gain from the journey?” I asked.

He said nothing and my son began to cry.

“Mummy, I'm hungry.

I won't disobey you again. Just give me food.”

I looked at both of them and my anger threatened to return.

These were the same children who had refused to listen to me a few hours earlier.

Now, they were tired, hungry, dirty and sick.

I had every right to punish them but as I looked at their innocent faces, my heart softened.

“Go and clean yourselves up first.” I told them.

“After that, come and eat.”

They quickly disappeared into the house.

As I sat there thinking about what had happened, something struck me.

Isn't this sometimes how we behave with God?

God sees what we cannot see.

He sees the road ahead.

He sees the danger around the corner.

He knows the people who will disappoint us.

He sees the opportunities that will cost us more than they will give us.

Sometimes, we pray for something and God says wait.

He deliberately closes a door and we cry.

Sometimes, He refuses to give us the person, job, money, opportunity or privilege we desperately want and instead of trusting him, we keep insisting.

And sometimes, God allows us to have our way.

Not because our choice was his perfect will or because he suddenly stopped caring.

He allowed us because he want us to experience the consequences of a choice we were determined to make.

After we've exercised our own will, we return back to him tired, disappointed, broken and regretting that we didn't listen when he warned us.

Suddenly, the very thing we were crying to have becomes the thing we are crying to escape from.

That day, my son didn't understand why I refused to let him go.

He thought I was being wicked and trying to stop him from enjoying himself.

But I wasn't trying to punish him.

I was trying to protect him from a road he couldn't see clearly.

Dear reader,

Perhaps you are crying over a door God has refused to open.

Perhaps you think he doesn't understand you.

Maybe you think he is delaying you.

You may even became angry because everyone else seems to be moving forward while your own life appears stuck.

But before you force that door open, remember this:

You are asking God to give you what you can see but God is protecting you from what you cannot see.

Sometimes, the closed door is not rejection, it is rescue.

There are journeys you keep begging God to let you make not knowing that the destination will leave you wishing you had stayed where he told you to stay.

So if God says wait, wait.

If he says no, trust him.

If he closes the door, don't break it down just because you are tired of standing outside.

You may be crying because God won't give you what you want while God may be protecting you from what would make you cry for the rest of your life.

Follow my page 👉 Chika Nduka if you enjoyed reading this story.

Chika Nduka

28/09/2026

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