The Conversation That Healed Me

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Something happened that afternoon and I shouldn’t be telling you this, but it’s my only way of letting you know you failed! It’s the fact that you didn’t call back that gets me so mad! What did you think would happen? That I’d bump my head into a wall or dive into the well of depression? That your carefully planned betrayal was so great it would be the end of my life?

Well, shortly after I walked out of Gina’s apartment. With the news of your travel plans with Timothy. Learning from a neighbor about your conversations with him. How loud and carefree you were as you conversed with my three-week-old boyfriend. How unremorseful you were, spilling details about my life, details you had advised me to hold off until I was sure of him. Until I was certain about the next level of the relationship. Events about my life were too intimate for a stranger to know.

I used to see this in the movies, and I bet anyone who hears this will think it’s fiction. How my childhood friend of over two decades, had lunch with a man who was interested in me. A man she’d advised me to keep only as a friend until I was sure about him. How she spent hours telling him about my escapade with a crush when I was just fifteen. The abortion that left me scarred. The fact that I’ve not seen my period in sixteen years. My long history of searching for a solution, praying for a miracle. Details I was so ashamed of. The very reason I had turned to God – He was the only one who didn’t see me as inadequate. Actually, He was the only one who knew. Apart from the doctors and you.

Two hours after I called you. After I yelled over what I had just heard. After your silence confirmed my suspicion and gave me a clear understanding of what had happened with Mike. Why he’d suddenly cut off communications with me and why you’d been super busy the past few weeks, busier than I had ever known you to be. Just two hours after you pierced my broken heart with the sword of your parting words. I can still remember them, they replay in my head and stir up a numb drumming feeling in my temple. A drumming sensation that used to be so painful I’d forget how to breathe. It’s how you said it, the nonchalance that slipped out of your strangely unfamiliar voice as you said ‘I knew Diana was sitting behind us. I was loud on purpose to be kind to you. I was sure she’d tell you so you should be grateful I didn’t leave you without a clue.’

I’m shaking my head as I recall how questions had popped up in my head. “How did you know she’d be there?” “What if she wasn’t there?” “Why? What did I ever do to you?” But I had been too numb to speak.

That afternoon, I stood in Dumbelli Park, staring at the sky while leaning on a range rover. The children playing just a few miles away distracted me for a while before the conversation happening just behind me, on the other side of the car gently drew my attention. Another demon just like you was selling out her friend. And I could tell she was talking to her friend’s husband. He was quiet. Didn’t say a word. He heaved a sigh when she was done and said a pained “Thanks.”When I heard the betrayer walk away, I turned and our eyes met. His were wet. And dreamily I asked him ‘What will you do?’.

Based on the gravity of what I’d just heard, I expected the answer to be ‘I’ll divorce her’. But his words are the reason I’m telling you this. ‘Before I married Ekas, I heard rumours of her illicit relationship with her cousin. How the family found out when they caught them in a room together. I also heard she’d done this with her elder brother’ He shook his head as if trying to shake off the sick feeling it gave him.

‘When I confronted Ekas, I was mild and gentle and she was transparent. She told me of the shame she’s carried these years. Of her plan to inform me before we get married, as she told me of how she dreaded the day she’d lay the option before me, my heart broke for her.’ He sniffed and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. Then looked at me, as if sending a message to me, and said ‘Christ forgave me worse. Why wouldn’t I extend the same grace?’

I wasn’t sure he was asking a question so I didn’t respond, he continued. ‘I felt like it was my assignment to love this broken woman. To help her go past the shame and accept wholeness. And I loved her so much the past held no water.’He laughed. A soft laugh then he said ‘On our wedding night, I told her she was about to have her first intercourse. The past is gone and all she has is a glorious future.’

I didn’t know I was in tears until he offered me a spare tissue from his car. That afternoon, I received my healing and found the truth that set me free of every form of sadness. I forgave you instantly and rather became grateful that I’ll never marry a man like Mike. I actually feel sorry for you, that you’ll settle so low. Mr. Benson gave me a gift that afternoon, a standard to look out for, a determination to not settle for less, but most importantly, he stands as compelling evidence that God-fearing men exist and I will not settle for anything less than a man who will forgive my past and lead me into the future God has in mind for me.

So when I say ‘I’m doing great’, I’m not saying it to cover up or try to make you feel like your betrayal did nothing to me. It’s actually true. I am doing great – totally healed and perfectly loved. Wiser than before and expecting only God’s best.

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Mercy Hephzibah Ndifon is a Nigerian Writer and Spoken Word Poet. She's the lead content creator for the journal of a Jesus Girl blog and fast growing Facebook community. She has authored two books: the heart-warming book - LETTERS TO ABBA, and DADDY LOVES LIKE ABBA. Mercy-Hephzibah is the convener of the annual online bootcamp for believers from across the world - BASKING IN ABBA BOOTCAMP. She's married to Patrick M. Ndifon. She enjoys journaling, reading, teaching God's word and counselling.

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