When a pastor speaks, we listen differently. We assume heaven must be listening too. Maybe that belief is the reason I now find myself walking on eggshells around a man I once respected deeply.

Right now I am babysitting and nursing my pastor because he believes I disrespected him. Every movement I make around him feels careful. I watch my tone, my words. If he decides to escalate the matter and tell my family that I disrespected him, it will not just be about him anymore. In our kind of homes, that easily becomes a matter of disrespecting God.

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In 2023, during the Christmas season, my sister introduced a pastor to our family. It was one of those festive evenings when the house was full of laughter, food, and the warmth that comes when family gathers. We welcomed him. Before he left that evening, he asked all of us to hold hands so he could pray for the family.

He called each of us by name while he prayed. He asked God to bless us, protect us, and guide our lives. The prayer was long. Longer than the prayers we were used to. By the time we finished with the Lord’s Prayer, I felt something close to peace. I believed the presence of God had visited our home.

After that day, he slowly became part of our lives.

Some time later he asked if I would like to join an online prayer group he was organizing. I agreed immediately. It sounded like a good opportunity to grow spiritually. Every Wednesday after lectures, I plugged in my earphones, clicked the Google Meet link, and joined the group.

Sometimes we prayed for hours. Sometimes we read scripture and shared testimonies.

Week after week I kept showing up. Slowly I started feeling like I was getting closer to God. Somewhere in that process, my respect for him grew into something deeper. I began to revere him, maybe more than I should have.

One day he called me unexpectedly. His voice sounded urgent. At first the conversation was normal. He asked where I was and how my day had been.

Before I understood what was happening, he asked if I was a virgin.

For a moment I thought I had misheard him. It did not sound like something a pastor should ask a young woman he was guiding spiritually. But I answered him anyway. I told him yes.

He sounded pleased. He said that was very good and told me to keep it well and not do anything that could break it. After that he laughed. It sounded playful, but something about the laugh did not sit well with me. I remember staring at my phone after the call ended, wondering why the conversation felt strange.

About a week later he sent me a message. He said the Lord had a message for me. At that point in my life I was going through many uncertainties, so when he said that, I was excited.

He told me I was ordained to marry a pastor. I asked him where he saw that. He said it was written in the volumes of the books. When I asked which book he meant, he said the Book of Prophecy.

He also mentioned that my sister had been ordained to marry a pastor. Later he laughed and turned it into a joke, saying it sounded funny. At the time I did not know what to make of it.

A few days later he called again. This time he sounded hesitant, almost shy. He said he had another question but asked me not to be angry with him. I laughed and told him there was no reason for me to be angry.

Then he asked if I had a boyfriend.

I did have one. Our relationship was struggling because of distance, but we were trying to make it work. So I told him the truth.

There was silence on the phone after I said it. Thinking about it now, that silence sounded like disappointment.

At one point he almost refused to help a friend of mine because he believed something was going on between us. He kept insisting my friend should tell the truth before he would help him. Eventually my friend convinced him nothing was happening.

After that, he disappeared for a while. We stopped talking as often, and it felt like he had withdrawn.

Then one day he called again, and that was when everything changed.

He told me he loved me. Not in a joking way or in a friendly way. He said I was his wife, the rib of his ribs and the flesh of his flesh. According to him, if we married we would achieve great things together.

I did not know how to respond.

One day he came to our house again to pray for me because I was sick and to pray for the household. This time he did not come alone. He came with a woman.

She eyed me up and down as if I had taken her gold jewellery. Every time I looked her way, she sized me up.

After they left, gossip started flying. People said the woman he came with was his wife to be. They said the marriage was already planned. The necessary items had been bought and everything was ready. The only problem was that he was the one delaying it.

According to what people were saying, he was delaying it because of another girl in the picture.

Talking to him has brought no solution. Only more trouble. He believes that asking him to leave me alone and stop meddling in my life is an insult. We have gone over and over and over this matter again, but no. He

I know I can leave. I know I should leave.

But whenever I try to step away, it feels like something pulls me back. As if until he is done with me, I cannot completely let go.

 

The strange thing is that my family does not see anything wrong with it. They think it is sweet that a pastor has taken such an interest in me.

But deep down, something feels wrong.

—Prinsella

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