The day I almost walked away from the pulpit for good

I remember that Tuesday morning clearly. I had just finished counseling a young couple who were about to call off their wedding because the bride's family demanded an extra ₦500,000 as 'acceptance fee' after the bride price had already been paid. The groom was a tailor in Ogbete market, he didn't have it. The bride was crying. I sat there feeling useless because I could not fix it with prayer alone.

That same evening, I got a call from a church elder asking why I had not visited his son who was in the hospital. He said, 'Pastor, you are always with these young people with their small problems, you forget the people who actually feed you.' I put the phone down and sat in my car for 45 minutes. I did not pray. I just sat there feeling empty.

What kept me was not a vision or a word from God. It was a young man named Chinedu who sent me a WhatsApp message that night. He said, 'Pastor, my father beat my mother yesterday and I wanted to hurt him. But I remembered what you said about cycles of violence. I went to my room instead.' That message reminded me that ministry is not about the big moments. It is about being present in the small ones where people are fighting battles nobody sees.