Apple of GOD'S eyes

There was this guy on campus who effortlessly drew the attention of many ladies, and I was undeniably one of them. Yet, I skillfully concealed my feelings, never allowing my admiration to become apparent.

I must admit, he was quite the eye candy. Tall, fair, and strikingly handsome, he exuded an air of confidence and charm. His neat appearance and rich demeanor only added to the allure, making him a standout among his peers. Moreover, he was an exceptional student in our department, further enhancing his appeal.

One day, after finishing a lecture, I was heading home when he unexpectedly stopped to offer me a ride. I hesitated, repeatedly declining his request, but as he persistently followed me, signaling with his double trafficator, I felt a mix of embarrassment and intrigue. Reluctantly, I climbed into his car.

As one of the few ladies on campus who often preached about avoiding sinful behaviors, I felt compelled to share my thoughts with him that evening. 

“Oh wow!” he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with surprise. “You’re the first person to ever preach to me on campus,” he said, flashing a smile that sent delightful shivers down my spine.

“Thank you so much, my lady. I truly appreciate this short but powerful sermon. I’d love to be your convert,” he continued, stealing glances at me that made my heart race.

For the first time, a man stirred something deep within me, awakening a biological urge I had never experienced before.

As we neared the junction of my house, I signaled for him to stop. He asked for my number, and without a second thought, I handed it over, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the thought of winning over a soul for eternity.

However, once I got home, restlessness consumed me. I tried to pray, but thoughts of his face and the sound of his voice kept intruding, echoing in my mind.

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For two agonizing days, I struggled with my emotions. My heart ached for his call, and I longed to see him again, but he remained mysteriously absent from my life.

Determined to move on, I began to regain my composure by the third day. Life resumed its normal rhythm until a week later when he reappeared.

“I’m sorry for being out of sight for a while; I had an accident,” he explained, his voice tinged with genuine regret.

My heart sank for him, and I immediately offered to pray for him and even visit.

“You want to visit him?” my roommate exclaimed, her voice filled with disbelief.

“Yes, what’s wrong?” I replied, my confidence unwavering. “I’m a strong believer, and I know how to be careful. Besides, I won’t be going alone; we’ll go together.”

My roommate and I made our way to his place, and I brought along some homemade food. I watched as he devoured the meal with evident satisfaction. When some of his friends dropped by, I seized the opportunity to open the Scriptures and share the Word. The atmosphere was lively and engaging, filled with joy and camaraderie.

“I think we should start heading back,” my roommate whispered. “It’s getting late in a guy’s house.”

At first, I dismissed her concern, but glancing at the clock and realizing it was already 7 PM, I reluctantly agreed.

Once we returned to the hostel, she suggested I hand him over to a brother in the fellowship for future visits, but I firmly refused.

“This soul is precious,” I said passionately. “I prefer to follow up myself.”

Our conversations flourished on social media, and feelings began to blossom between us.

“I like you,” he confessed one evening during our chat.

Joy surged through me, but I masked my excitement. 

“Thank you,” I replied, keeping my emotions in check as we ended the conversation for the night.

But from that moment on, my feelings for him intensified. I wanted to maintain our connection without revealing too much, so I began sending him daily devotionals.

He would respond, expressing gratitude for how they brightened his day. In the evenings, he would call, and we would discuss the lessons we had gleaned from the devotionals. I felt a comforting ease in our new pattern of communication.

For three months, we would go out together, take pictures, and just enjoy each other’s company with no strings attached. This continued until the semester break approached. On the last day of school, I resolved to tell him I liked him too, but fate had other plans; we didn’t get a chance to meet. I informed him we would chat that night instead.

I planned to stay one more week at my off-campus hostel before heading home, thinking it would be the perfect opportunity for us to connect.

That night, as we chatted, I could hardly contain my excitement. 

“I like you too,” I typed quickly before closing the message, feeling shy even though we were miles apart.

For five long minutes, I set my phone aside, but the vibrations of incoming notifications beckoned me back. Picking it up, I was greeted with ten replies, half were stickers expressing his excitement, while the other half overflowed with his heartfelt appreciation and feelings for me.

That night felt magical. We talked late into the night, and before we ended our conversation, he said, “I know we have a whole life ahead of us, but I would like to marry you in the future.”

I was speechless, my heart racing as a radiant smile spread across my face. We ended the call, and I was left in a daze.

The following day, I found myself lost in thoughts of him. I soon realized I was ovulating, which explained my heightened excitement. We were supposed to meet again, but once more, it didn’t happen, leaving me feeling frustrated.

That night, as we resumed chatting, a thrilling sensation coursed through me. Throughout our conversation, he consistently reminded me how much I had blessed him, mentioning how he had overcome certain habits, and he reiterated that I would be his wife.

Just minutes before midnight, he requested a video call-the first time we would see each other this way. He expressed a desire to see my beautiful face, and I felt a rush of anticipation.

We switched to video call, and he asked if I could adjust the camera so he could see me better, admitting he had missed me dearly.

I hesitated, sensing my nerves, but he noticed my uncertainty. 

“Please don’t do it if you feel uncomfortable,” he said softly, his voice reassuring.

Pushing aside my reservations, I let him see me in my nightwear, using my hands to modestly cover my chest. He thanked me, promising we would meet without fail the next day.

The following morning, I sent him the daily devotional, but it didn’t deliver. An hour later, I tried again, but still no luck. I attempted to call him, but he didn’t pick up.

Worry crept in. I contemplated visiting his house but ultimately decided against it, not wanting to seem desperate.

Two days passed without any response to my messages or calls. It hurt to see him online yet receive no acknowledgment from him, and tears streamed down my face each night.

The day came for me to travel back home, and just as I was about to hop into a tricycle, he appeared at my doorstep.

Deep down, I felt a flicker of happiness, but I masked it.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, but I turned away, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Can we sit down and talk for a few minutes?” he requested, his voice earnest.

We settled on the pavement in front of my house, and he continued to plead his case.

“Why did you ghost me?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“This may sound ridiculous, but I had a dream and a vision warning me not to desecrate you,” he explained, fear evident in his eyes.

His words struck me as strange. “How do you mean?”

He sighed deeply. “I saw an angel in my dream warning me to stay away from you because you are special. It didn’t make sense until I read the story of Abraham and Isaac with the king in my Bible, and then everything clicked.”

As he spoke, shock coursed through me, and tears welled in my eyes. 

“Please forgive me. I need to stay away from you. Don’t get me wrong; I still like you, but I’m determined to do things the right way,” he concluded, turning to leave.

In that moment, I recalled my mother’s words: “You are the apple of HIS eyes, and I have given you over to Him to protect you for HIS purpose.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks. It was true. Even as I had become careless, God had found a way to preserve me.

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Thank you for reading "The Apple of His Eyes”, by Prisca Popoola. Do share your thoughts with me below.

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