Adeife 💜

You don't prove God, you experience God. He is personal! ❤️

😂😂😫

I was driving when I saw the flash of a traffic camera. I figured my picture had been taken for exceeding the limit, even though I knew I wasn’t speeding. Just to be sure, I went around the block and passed the same spot, driving even more slowly, but the camera flashed again. Now I began to think this was quite funny, so I drove even slower as I passed once more, yet the camera flashed again. I tried a fourth and fifth time with the same results and was now laughing as the camera flashed while I rolled past at a snail’s pace. Two weeks later, I got five tickets in the mail for driving without a seat belt. You know, you just can’t fix stupid. 😖

😂😂😂😂😂😂💀

Every Sunday at exactly 3:17 p.m., my father called me. Not 3:15. Not 3:20. 3:17. It started a month after he retired. At first, I thought it was boredom. Then habit. Then aging. But it never changed. If I picked up, he’d say the same thing: “Are you home?” If I said yes, he’d reply, “Good. Just checking,” and hang up. If I said no, there’d be a pause. Then he’d say, “Alright. Call me when you’re back.” That was it. No small talk. No updates. No “how are you?” Just… checking. My wife thought it was sweet. I thought it was strange. One Sunday, I decided not to answer. I was home. I just let it ring. At 3:18 p.m., he called again. I ignored it. At 3:19 p.m., my wife’s phone rang. She frowned. “It’s your dad.” I gestured for her not to answer. The phone stopped. At 3:21 p.m., the landline rang. No one even has that number. We stared at it. It stopped after five rings. At 3:24 p.m., someone knocked on the door. Three sharp knocks. Not aggressive. Precise. I opened it. My father stood there. Calm. Neatly dressed. Slightly out of breath. “Why didn’t you answer?” he asked. “I was busy.” He looked past me into the living room. “You’re home.” “Yes.” He nodded slowly. Then said something he’d never said before. “Good.” And he left. That night, I drove to his house. I needed to understand. He lived alone since my mother passed. Same house I grew up in. Same curtains. He opened the door before I knocked. “You came,” he said. “Dad, why do you call every Sunday?” He studied me for a moment. “Come in.” We sat at the dining table. He didn’t speak immediately. He rarely does. Finally, he stood up and walked to a locked drawer in the hallway. He pulled out a thin folder. Inside were newspaper clippings. House fires. Robberies. Gas leaks. Carbon monoxide deaths. All circled in red. “Every single one,” he said quietly, “happened on a Sunday afternoon.” I blinked. “That doesn’t mean..” He held up a hand. “When your mother died, I was in the garden.” I swallowed. “I was ten feet away. Ten feet. She called once. I didn’t hear her.” Silence stretched between us. “I promised myself,” he continued, “that if something ever happened to you, I would not be in the garden.” My chest tightened. “So you call me to make sure I’m alive?” He looked at me steadily. “No.” A long pause. “I call to make sure you answer.” I frowned. “What’s the difference?” He leaned back in his chair. “If you answer, I know you can.” The words didn’t land immediately. Then they did. “If you couldn’t answer,” he continued calmly, “I would already be driving.” My stomach dropped. “You’ve been ready to come over every Sunday?” “Yes.” “Even when I said I wasn’t home?” He nodded. “I wait ten minutes. Then I check.” A cold realization crept up my spine. “Dad… how many times have you come?” He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked toward the window. “Six.” Six Sundays. Six times he drove to my house. Six times he must have stood outside. Watching. Making sure. I tried to laugh it off. “That’s extreme.” He didn’t smile. “You think emergencies schedule appointments?” We sat there in heavy silence. Then I asked the question that had been building all evening. “Why 3:17?” For the first time, his composure cracked. “That’s the time on the hospital clock,” he said softly, “when they told me she was gone.” The air left my lungs. He wasn’t checking on me. He was trying to outrun a minute. Every Sunday. For years. I drove home that night differently. The following Sunday at 3:16 p.m., my phone was in my hand. At 3:17, it rang. I answered on the first vibration. “Hi Dad.” There was a pause. Then, for the first time ever, he said something new. “I know.” And he hung up.

I accidentally sent "I love you" in my static server. I panicked. Most raiders would've sent a correction. An apology. Not me. I leaned in. Within 3 minutes, I followed up: "And I mean it. Every single one of you." Then I received some replies: 👇

China will always amaze us 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

I can never forget that morning. My interview was 7am. Monday morning. German Embassy. It was on the Island. Sunday afternoon, I had taken the passport, admired it, and kept it back in the cupboard I keep important docs, not the bag I was taking to school that evening… 🧵

I am starting to learn that God will bring you to a point of weakness if that is what it takes to bring you to trust Him… Because you will never know God is all you need until God is all you’ve got.

Friends will forever remain that comfort show!

Got posted to Gombe for NYSC, my world shook 😭 I told God , you know I’m antisocial & not in a good place ( went to camp not long after loosing my dad) & all of these things are strange to me. Send someone to me at the gate of Camp , that would say these words to me…

Permit to be brutal and honest. Change your Twitter bio and make it exclusively about your business. No one cares about your motivational quote. Second, always add a call to action (e.g. ‘place your order’) Anyone who sees your post won’t know you’re selling and would think you just cooked it for fun. Finally, asides from a call to action, make it super clear how to place an order (insert a link, slide into your DMs, etc.)… people like being told what to do.

Ah! You're alive?

Two prayer points Pastor Jerry raised at Hallelujah Challenge this morning that I prayed with everything inside my chest? These two, amongst others. Bruh! Very strong prayers.

How to stop being nervous while speaking ‼️‼️

You start explaining something to someone, and it dawns on you that you have no descriptive words whatsoever

My Dad accidentally taught me an important lesson about HONESTY which is the reason why I can never be involved in any form of FRAUD; When I was in JSS1, my dad was so broke and we were all living in the same room, my parents and six kids; One night, I woke up to my Dad....

No matter how much you pray , fast, act like your miracle , attend church , attend online prayers, study his word ….God ‘s principles remain UNCHANGED for a believer and a nonbeliever . God will work WITH you and not FOR you . You must pick a hoe, dig, water , sow, plant, harvest. God will not come down to do what he gave you brains for.

I think many of us miss her point. She truly believed she was out of data and unable to stream the Challenge. But she was able to stream it, out of faith, despite not having data. She does not know the technical details of why it happened. This is what makes it a miracle. God does not perform magic. Miracles often have logical explanations unknown to the believer. It does not make them any less miraculous.

I wanna play this