February 14 💌

Episode 2b: what happens when love reaches for you?

Feb 12, 2026

Before you read this episode, please make sure you catch up on Episode 2a here.

But why does God leave the 99 for 1? she wondered. Isn’t that risky? Can’t the 1 be let go, since 99 is greater? These thoughts plagued her mind. But little did she know..

The theme of the program was Restoration, and as though God had heard her thoughts, the woman preaching addressed her burning questions.

“God leaves the 99 for the 1,” she said, “not because the 1 is more precious, but because there is an assurance that the 99 are safe. And even when He’s done chasing the 1, He brings it back into the fold and loves them all equally.”

She continued, “There is nothing you have ever done - or will ever do, that will make this God stop loving you. Remember, before you received this life, He loved you enough to die for you, even with the uncertainty that you might not choose Him. But aren’t you tired of taking this love for granted? Truly, what you think you’re looking for outside can ONLY be found in Him.

“There is a God-sized vacuum inside every one of us, and nothing - I repeat, absolutely nothing, can satisfy it. Not money. Not drugs. Not sex. Not relationships with people, as important as those are. Not even fame. It is only God who can fill it.

“And guess what?” she added. “God takes chasing even more seriously than boys do when they’re toasting a lady. He’s a relentless lover, and He won’t stop chasing after you until you come home.”

Fikayo was deeply convicted. She had already begun to tear up, but the moment the woman said, “There’s a lady here - you weren’t even aware of this program, but someone, your friend, invited you. The Lord wants me to tell you that He sees you, and He heard your prayer this morning. He says you should come back home and reconcile with your friend. He wants to use you to touch lives.”

The floodgates opened, and she burst into tears. Fikayo fell to her knees and wailed as the lead singer picked up the mic and sang a song that shredded her heart into pieces. She understood the interpretation, because it was in Yoruba.

There’s a whisper,
Heard it many times before
Calling me home
Calling me home
Mo gbọ́ fèrè olóde (I heard the hunter’s whistle)
Ó ń pè mí wálé oooo (It’s calling me home)
Ilé (Home)
Ilé ooo (Home)
Ilé ooo (Home)
Ó ń pè mí wálé (It’s calling me home)
I’m going home
Ilé (Home)

She wept, telling God she was sorry. She cried for a long time and then felt a warm embrace. When she opened her eyes to see who was holding her, she realized no one was there. God had hugged her.

In that moment, she sensed the Holy Spirit reveal something to her - how that everything changed when her mum died. And because her dad had never been in the picture, she had suffered deeply. Her mum had been a constant source of love, alongside Ada, and when she passed away, Fikayo met Dapo just two months later. And because she was desperately in need of love - human love, (she thought) it was easy to fall for him.

Dapo wanted more in terms of physical touch, and she had slowly shifted her convictions, but now that she knew better, and had reconciled with her Father - God, she knew she had to leave. She thanked God for His mercy that she hadn’t gotten intimate with Dapo, because even though He would have forgiven her, it would have been difficult trying to get her life back on track with a child (if she did get pregnant) not when she had just one year left to finish school.

The rest of the program passed in a blur, and she was grateful that God had used it to restore her back to the fold. Just like the preacher taught, she was the 1 Jesus left the 99 for. When it finally came to an end, she felt relieved - like herself again. The last time she had felt this way was when Ada led her to Christ. Forgetting her initial plan to look out for Ada, she picked up her belongings and began to make her way back to her hostel. She hadn’t gone far when she heard her name, and the voice sounded familiar. Is that… Ada?

She wasn’t even done processing the thought when Ada jumped on her, almost knocking her off balance. Ada was beaming with smiles as she said, “My God, I can’t believe you came. I got the nudge to invite you while I was praying for you yesterday evening, and I’m so glad you were able to make it.” “Oh, Ada… thank you. You saved my life,” Fikayo said, about to go on, when Ada interrupted her. “Oh, that reminds me,” Ada said. “Mrs Thelma would like to speak with you. She was just telling me that God laid you on her heart when you walked out just now.”

Wow. Was God this proactive and intentional about her? Fikayo thought. “Okay, let’s go,” she replied, and they walked back to meet the woman, who led them to her office. Mrs Thelma was the preacher at the event, and Fikayo was both surprised and eager to hear what she had to say. She initially wanted to walk up to the woman and let her know she was the one the word of knowledge was for, and how grateful she was, but she thought it might be too much.

They got into the office, and before Fikayo could say a word, Mrs Thelma spoke. “The Lord would have me take up the role of a mother figure to you.” If Fikayo didn’t know Ada to be someone who never gossiped, she would have concluded that she had told the woman her entire life story. She broke down and narrated everything - how her father left, even though he still provided for them at the time. They were a small happy family, until she turned eight, and her mum couldn’t conceive again, so her father remarried. Then it was just her, her mum, and Ada; until her mum passed away.

Being new to the faith, she couldn’t understand why a God who claimed to love her would watch her lose her mum to cancer. The whole experience was traumatizing, and even though she couldn’t pinpoint it, she knew something had changed. That was when Dapo came around - and because he felt like a safe space, she chose to mask her pain instead of processing it. Slowly, she began to slip away.

Mrs Thelma listened patiently before responding. “A soul wound is not measured by the obvious severity of the event. It is measured by the degree to which that event impacted your self view, world view and your God view. The event is one thing, the experience is another. Tosin Sanni, 2025.”

“Don’t worry. God is in control. You’ll heal both the Bible way and emotionally. Thankfully, my mentorship academy has provision for both. You’ll get to meet seasoned Christian therapists who will hold your hand as God walks you on the path of healing. She raised an eyebrow as she said “And you will learn to forgive your dad, too. I want you to know that God was never the reason for your mum’s death. The world is simply in a fallen state, so it would be unfair to blame Him for what He didn’t cause.

Thank God your mum knew the Lord, so we have the assurance that you will see her again, according to 1 Thessalonians 4:13. “But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope.”

“I’ll be here as a mother figure, not to replace her, but so you can experience motherly love again. I’ll get your details from Ada, and we’ll take it up from there. I have a meeting now, but I’ll definitely reach out.”

“Thank you, ma,” Fikayo replied as she stood up to leave with Ada. She was already at the door when Mrs Thelma called her again. “You don’t go looking for God,” she said gently. “He comes looking for you. I hope you never forget this.”

They returned to campus, and Fikayo told Ada everything - her petty plan to rub Dapo and the relationship in her face, the entire Halima situation (Ada had tried preaching to Halima before, but she wouldn’t budge), and her encounter with God at the program. She apologized, and Ada was genuinely happy to have her friend back. She had missed Fikayo deeply.

They got back to Fikayo’s room, where Halima was with her sister, still crying. Fikayo noticed that the breakfast she had prepared earlier was untouched - Halima hadn’t eaten or taken her bath. Her heart broke for her friend. She sat beside Halima, and for the first time, genuine compassion welled up in her. She shared the gospel, not from a place of superiority, but vulnerability. She told Halima how she herself had been gradually slipping away, and how God had used Ada to rescue her. She explained how a God who had every right to be angry with humanity instead chose restoration, simply because of how much He loved us.

And then she said gently, “Accepting Jesus doesn’t mean all your problems will disappear. I mean, my mum still died after everything. But I can assure you, His presence makes all the difference.” Halima sobbed.

“HIV… I have HIV, Fikayo. What kind of God still loves someone who put her hand into fire?” “The God who deemed it fit to die for you before you even knew your predicament,” Fikayo replied softly. “Before you knew you were lost in darkness.” Halima cried out, falling to her knees.

“Oh Jesus, I believe you died for me. Please help me make sense of this life you’ve graciously given me. I’m not even asking for healing — I just want hope to live again. Help me.” Ada and Fikayo held hands and prayed as Halima repented before the Lord.

Then Ada began to minister, her eyes full of compassion:

“God says He comes to comfort those who mourn, to bring freedom to the hurting, and to make right what’s been broken. He promises to take the ashes of your pain and turn them into beauty. He will replace your mourning with joy, your sadness with praise, and wrap you in a spirit of hope. That’s what He wants to do for you, Halima - not just fix things, but restore your heart completely.”

Halima’s sister sat there, stunned. When they were done, she asked quietly, “Who is this Jesus? I want Him to know me and love me too.” “He already knows you,” Fikayo replied. “You just have to believe and confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord.” She led her in a simple confession, and the four girls hugged one another, crying tears of joy.

Fikayo recalled the words of her mother as she wrote in her journal: “There are days when decades happen. Today was one of those days.” She had been restored, now had a mother-figure, and was ready to kickstart her healing journey. Her relationship with Ada was intact, and Halima had hope - more importantly, she and her sister, Aisha, had received the life of Christ.

“Dapo…” she thought. She hadn’t reached out to him yet. She didn’t like the idea of breaking up over text, but going to his house alone was a no-no, as she didn’t trust herself to be alone with him. Maybe Ada would be willing to go with her - she would ask her tomorrow. Perhaps he would also take his walk with God seriously, as she was planning to. “Oh God, help Dapo. I care about him so much.”

She put down her pen and journal, tucked herself neatly into her duvet, and subconsciously hummed:

Oh the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God. Oh, it chases me down, fights till I’m found, leaves the 99. And I couldn't earn it, I don't deserve it, still you gave yourself away. Oh the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God.

She was the 1. Halima was the 1. Aisha was the 1. “Oh, thank you, Jesus. We're safe in You.” Those were her final words before her eyes gave way, and sleep gently claimed her.

Author’s Note: Have you ever felt the love of God reach out to you, the way it did with Fikayo? How did it make you feel? Have you ever experienced being the 1 Jesus left the 99 for? I’d really love to read your experiences, so share below.

Growth & Vulnerability 🌱💜

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