The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)

“Your eagerness and haste to be a teacher or coach will rob you of the meekness required to be a good learner.

It is the reason roots don’t go deep and the reason many will not stand the test of time at whatever they’re doing.

Calm down, immerse yourself in the process, and let your roots go deep. Be grounded.

No!!! You are not yet an expert, consultant, or authority. 

The moment you arrogate that to yourself, you stop learning subconsciously.

And when you stop learning, you stop growing.”

Author: David Oletu (DCM)

…..Her departure became a tantalising waltz.

Each step she took was a seductive cadence that beckoned me to surrender my desires.

Her movements were like another siren’s call that lured me deeper into the treacherous waters of my own lust, threatening to capsize the fragile vessel of my restraint. 

At that moment, I was torn asunder by the conflicting tides of duty and desire.

My pastoral vows began to clash with the primal urges that surged through my veins like a raging torrent.

The room, which was once a sanctuary of solace, became a background where my conscience wrestled with my carnal mind. 

…….. She became bound to me—helpless, unable to rebuke the advances of the man she had entrusted with her spiritual guidance.

At that moment, the sanctuary of her soul was breached, and I, her ‘papa’, became the wolf preying sexually upon the flock that had been entrusted to my care. 

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)

A common mistake many young people make today is elevating themselves too quickly when they are still supposed to be in a class, learning at the feet of their elders. 

When we are still babies, we do not want to be fed with milk; we want to be fed with bones we can’t chew. 

If young people can realise the value of process,

and do not feel too desperate to quickly experience things and positions that are beyond them in their process stage,

they won’t fall easily for mistakes.

They will be able to stand strong to face any situation they find themselves in, in whatever capacity they occupy. 

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)

My name is Bantu, popularly known as ‘Apostle B’.

I am a 28-year-old lover of the Christian faith who is starting my Christian journey all over again. 

My love for the Christian faith grew at the age of 18 when I gave my life to Christ. 

But before then, I used to be a free-thinker.

I was highly intelligent. And I had read and listened to so many philosophical ideas and books in my teenage phase.

My high level of intellect and knowledge made me question every single thing about God. 

Many times, I ask myself:

Who is God?

Where is he from?

Who created him?

Why exactly did he create us?

And many more questions beyond the natural. 

I only went to church to impress my parents,

never wanted to disobey them because I was still under their roof.

And I had nothing; they were the ones feeding me.

If I leave where they are and stay independent with my beliefs, how would I survive? 

My mother would always tell me:

“Bantu! As long as you are still under my roof, you must do whatever your father and I ask you to do.”

One thing my mother didn’t realise about such a statement was that I wouldn’t be under her forever.

She will grow old, and I will grow independent. So, what happens after that? 

I couldn’t just wait until then to practice my philosophical beliefs against her Christian beliefs. 

However, for the moment and to ‘fulfil all righteousness,’ I cooperated with my parents.

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)

So, I prayed when they asked me to pray.

And I spoke in tongues when they asked me to speak in tongues, even if I did not understand what I was doing. 

My regular spiritual tongues were:

“Ra ma ma ma ma

Ba ba ba ba ba

Sa ta sa ta ta.”

I only used those strange tongues in my parents’ presence to pretend that I was spiritual whenever we were praying,

but my mind was totally blocked. It lacked spiritual insights and understanding.

When I was still in secondary school, I learnt how to play different musical instruments.

“Bantu, I want you to join the choir so you can play the instrument for them.

I have told my sister Martha, the music director, to let you in.” My father said to me one day.

“Okay, Daddy,” I responded, in obedience as usual. Because I can’t reject his will.

So, I would do it for them, and it would even give me the chance to improve my playing of the instruments.

Hence, I joined the choir at the age of 16.

They were so happy to receive me because they needed instrumentalists.

I had the skills, but my spirit did not align with theirs.

But I played the keyboard and any other instruments to complement their voices and,

as they would call it, to stir up an intense spiritual atmosphere with the ‘strings’.

It all looked so funny to me, but I played nonetheless, to satisfy them and in obedience to my parents’ will. 

If someone would ever think a radical realist like me would one day believe in God,

then it means they must have seen a vision where God arrested me as He did to Saul on Saul’s way to Damascus.

No one would ever believe it.

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story) 

But it just happened in a way beyond my understanding one fateful day when I went to church with an open mind to learn God’s word, leaving my aggressive mind towards the word. 

I took note of every word the pastor said on the pulpit. They resonated deeply. 

When the pastor made an alter call,

“If you are here and you have not given your life to Christ, come out now!” The pastor instructed, and I stood up. 

The moment I stepped forward, almost everyone stared at me.

They were instructed to close their eyes. Perhaps they were just too eager to see the unbelievers among them.

When my parents saw me stepping out to surrender my life to God, they were surprised.

They thought their boy was a staunch believer; they never knew how much doubt about God occupied my mind.

This is why sometimes parents should not assume the nature of their children.

Many children could live in pretence,

appearing upright in their parents’ sight, when there is always something fishy in their minds and in ‘their secret place.’

Knowing God from that day, at 18 years old, felt serene. I felt a kind of peace and security I had never felt before in my life! 

From then on, my commitment to the things of God started. 

My perspective on playing the instrument changed.

Each time I played,

–I played to minister to my heart and the hearts of the congregants, not with the intention of doing the choir a favour. 

A few months later, after putting on a new nature in Christ, I gained admission into the university.

My parents were happy for me, not just for gaining admission but for genuinely giving my life to God before leaving their roof.

If I had gained admission as the atheist that I was before, I would have grown worse in school because I would have had the freedom I wanted.

But thank God for a change of heart.

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)

When I got to school, I held on to God steadfastly, never missing the school fellowship programs.

My zeal to work for God in the school fellowship got me attracted to my fellowship leaders,

to the point that they made me a music director when I was in the 200 level.

Having served as the music director at the 200 level, I became the president of my school fellowship at the 300 level.

None of my leaders knew about my past. They only saw my commitment and made me a leader.

I retained the leadership position until my final year.

And, when I graduated at the age of 24,

I handed over my position with a good track record and went back home to continue worshipping and serving in my parent’s church. 

A few years later, my interest in following my parents to their church dropped.

The church doctrine was okay, but I just needed that youthful kind of atmosphere.

I also thought that since I served as a leader in school, then I should also desire a leadership position in my home church. 

So, I didn’t feel comfortable any longer sitting in the choir seats. I needed something more challenging.

But I had that urge to be at the pulpit preaching. And I tried to impress my pastor, to make him at least give me a post, but he didn’t seem to notice me. 

Would he even believe I was a student pastor, owing to the time I gave my life to Christ?

My pastor thinks I should still rather be in the Sunday school learning and not lead fully yet. 

But I wanted to be like the likes of Pastor Iren and P. Daniel, prophesying and raining fires from the heavens. 

Out of my desperation to be a preacher, I started a small fellowship gathering every Sunday, using my father’s compound.

Father and Mother were so proud of me because they had always wished to see their children doing God’s work.

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story) 

My father was ready to give me every support I needed to grow my ministry, even if it meant selling his last property. 

One skill God has blessed me with is oratory.

I got the skill from my intellectual ability, being able to analyse things so well.

My congregants enjoyed every single analysis I made from the scripture, and that was what drew them more to my ministry. 

“Have you heard of Apostle B? His words are full of wisdom!”

Those were the words people would say concerning my sermons, which would spur other people to start coming to my gathering. 

As time progressed, my church began to grow numerically to the point where my father’s compound couldn’t contain us anymore.

My father was already almost bankrupt.

He had spent his money to buy chairs and other church equipment we would need.

On the other hand, I had no well-paying job to sustain the ministry. 

However, after sharing my plight with my ‘flock’,

one of them, who was very rich, volunteered to rent a 1-million-naira big hall where we could hold services every Sunday.

His name was Pablo, but I renamed him Paul because Pablo sounded so worldly.

He was young and stinkingly rich.

I do not know what kind of job he was into to possess such millions in his bank account,

but since he was able to meet my needs, that didn’t matter to me. 

Brother Paul Pablo didn’t stop at renting a hall for my ministry;

he also singlehandedly bought other beautiful equipment for the church,

like the ‘air conditioners’, the instruments, the lights, the cameras, and laptops, for a media team that would project our services to the world. 

According to Brother Paul Pablo, my messages were too loaded to be limited to our church only.

He compared me with great, other worded and anointed apostles of God.

My head almost burst out with excitement at his showered praises. 

After Brother Paul’s financial touch on my ministry, my ministry began to attract more young people.

That was exactly what I needed.

They became so many to the point that I couldn’t recognise them by their names. All I knew was that I had a large number of followers.

One thing, however, that didn’t cross my mind was the burden I would face while serving as a church pastor.

I thought it would be like a regular school fellowship where students would have a little challenge.

But, here, so many people came with their different heavy strokes of issues bothering them.

I was their pastor, so a lot of them relied on me for support. 

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)

One Sunday, different people will come to me and tell me how they lack resources to further their education.

On another Sunday, others would come lamenting about how they were jobless.

And some others would also come, lamenting that they had no food to eat. 

Meeting their needs?

That wasn’t how I planned ministry! I thought members were to give to their pastors, not the other way around.

I felt so disturbed in my spirit. But I only had oratory skills; and I had no stable job to meet their needs.

Moreso, I was still as young as they were.

But they called me their papa, while I called them my sons and daughters.

Painfully, I never knew meeting their needs was part of my responsibility to them as their papa.

But I thought it was only to teach them and leave.

Their constant demands made me remember how Jesus fed the five thousand miraculously.

So, I wished I could perform the same miracles to make provisions for all of them, but I couldn’t.

Consequently, I made Brother Paul Pablo a deacon, specifically to meet the needs of people in church, since he was blessed financially.

Brother Paul Pablo was also excited to accept the title. He didn’t mind. He had millions to lavish! And he did his job so well!

Through deacon Paul Pablo’s charitable act in the church, other young people started joining us.

My church became the latest talk of the town.

The heavy downpour of jobs, scholarship opportunities, and money to support students and youth businesses attracted people. 

Many young people are now truly selective about the kinds of churches they attend.

Beyond growing spiritually, they also want to grow in their careers, talents, and businesses.

So, they target a big church, where they can network with their friends after service and meet their rich pastor for possible connections in their various choice of industries. 

The money issue was a minor thing for my ministry to resolve since deacon Paul Pablo was around to assist.

However, despite all this, I still had more burdens I struggled to resolve.

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)

Conflict!

A young lady came to see me after church service, lamenting:

“Papa, my husband treats me like a slave.

It’s barely our two years of marriage, and I have become like a punching bag in his face.

He doesn’t find me attractive anymore. And I am now like a piece of trash in his face.

I am ending the marriage because I am tired, Papa,” she said, crying.

Her name was Hannah, and she was a very beautiful, slim, and tall lady.

People will assume she is into modelling for her alluring beauty and stature, but she isn’t.

She is only a skilled and diligent fashion designer. 

Which man would marry such a beauty as his sister Hannah and treat her like trash?

Her man must be out of his senses, I thought.

However, I didn’t advise her to leave the marriage. I said to her: 

“Sister Hannah, God has joined both of you together; let nothing put your marriage asunder.

The Bible speaks against divorce. Keep praying for your husband; I am sure he will change. Who knows?

You may even be the one to bring him to Christ. Imagine how happy God will be!”

Sister Hannah didn’t seem excited about my suggestion to her, but she had to obey because those words were coming from me, the papa,

whom she had idolised so much for my deep sense and words of wisdom. 

“Hmmmmm… If you say so, papa, I will. Thank you, papa.”

She knelt, and I laid my hands on her head and blessed her, then saw her off. 

I wasn’t married; I only had an idea.

What does a full-time bachelor like me in his 20s know about marriage?

Having given those words, my heart pounded in fear and in hopes that I had given her the right words.

I pray she survives the abusive marriage. 

A few months later, as I was preaching on the pulpit, I noticed that our sister Hannah wasn’t in church.

She was always one of the first people to come to church, and her seats were always in front.

I noticed her absence because my mind wasn’t comfortable with the marriage advice I gave her.

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)

After the church service, as I sought to call sister Hannah immediately to find out what was wrong with her, a group of sisters with sad faces came to me:

“Papa! Sister Hannah is dead!” one of the sisters revealed sorrowfully. 

“Jesus! How? What happened to her?” I asked them as I trembled.

“Her wicked husband has finally beaten her to death!” Another sister said, angrily. 

I couldn’t say a word.

Guilt rode all over me at the speed of light.

Without being told, I knew I was part of the cause of her death.

Because I was inexperienced in resolving her abusive marriage.

Ever since then, I told myself that I would never interfere in a marriage issue again, no matter how much I was filled with ideas and some deep words to say. 

Life continued with me, but in guilt each time I remember the death of my sister Hannah. 

On another fateful day, still in the process of facing my burdens as an overseer of multiple Christian folks,

one of my members, sister Grace, came to visit me at my parent’s house.

She came alone with her burden, almost shedding tears.

“Sister Grace, How are you? Why are you looking so sad?” I asked her. 

“Papa, I am tired of life. I want to end it all!” she said, in deep sadness.

“Come in and have your seat.” I led her to the living room, from the door to our soft brown couch. 

“So, talk to me, sister Grace, what happened?” I asked.

“Papa, I am a single mother, and I am on the verge of losing my child. My child is now critically ill at the hospital,” she responded.

“Just that?

How much do you need to cure her?

We have capable men in the church who can provide you with every financial assistance you need.

You don’t need to cry, sister, Grace.” I said it to her confidently.

“Papa, her case is now critical. However, I know money is not the problem, but the doctor said her chances to live are 50/50.

But I don’t know what to do, Papa. Because I don’t want to lose my daughter,” she said in tears. 

I walked up to her, sat beside her, wrapped my hand around her shoulder, and wiped her tears away.

“Don’t worry, sister Grace. By the mercies of God, your child will live and not die.” I prayed for her passionately.

“Amen!” she responded as she sobbed softly. 

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)

On the other hand, Sister Grace was a very beautiful young lady.

I was beginning to lack discipline in controlling my sexual urges.

When I held her to console her, I felt some sweet sensations all over my body.

Awkwardly, I felt the treacherous stirrings of desire,

like a thief in the night, stealing my resolve and leaving me vulnerable to the tantalizing curves of her body.

At that moment, I was lost, like a shipwrecked sailor on the turbulent seas of her sorrow,

unable to resist the siren’s call of her charming beauty, even as I knew I should be her anchor, her haven, and her tender shoulder in the storm.

“Papa, are you okay?”

She called, having noticed my strange, lustful stares and moved towards her.

“Oh! Sister Grace. I am sorry. Yes, I’m fine.

I’m fine.” I stuttered, having regained my senses.

“Thank you, Papa. I think I should go and see my daughter now,” sister Grace said softly as she rose to depart. 

Her departure became a tantalizing waltz.

Each step she took was a seductive cadence that beckoned me to surrender my desires.

Her movements were like another siren’s call that lured me deeper into the treacherous waters of my own lust, threatening to capsize the fragile vessel of my restraint. 

At that moment, I was torn asunder by the conflicting tides of duty and desire.

My pastoral vows began to clash with the primal urges that surged through my veins like a raging torrent.

The room, which was once a sanctuary of solace, became a background where my conscience wrestled with my carnal mind. 

As I stood paralysed in a bid to see Sister Grace off, Sister Grace’s receding form became an irresistible mirage. 

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)

“Sister Grace!” I called, stopping her from a distance as she approached the door. 

“I…” I struggled to find the right words to express my feelings for her.

The silence between us grew thick with tension,

a palpable force that pulsed with the unspoken words I dared not utter yet longed to whisper in her ears.

so, “I think I am beginning to have feelings for you, Sister Grace,” I confessed.

hmm, “I don’t get papa,” she said, looking confused. 

But I moved closer to her with the stealth of a serpent.

As my hands reached out to claim her waist,

the air became heavy with the scent of betrayal as I, her papa, turned predator, seeking to devour the trust she had placed in me.

“I’m in love with you, sister Grace. And I can’t resist you. Yes, I really need you now.” I said it lustfully.

As I stood before her, with my eyes burning with an unholy fire, she felt the weight of her respect for me bearing down upon her like a physical force.

She became bound to me—helpless, unable to rebuke the advances of the man she had entrusted with her spiritual guidance.

At that moment, the sanctuary of her soul was breached,

and I, her ‘papa’, became the wolf preying sexually upon the flock that had been entrusted to my care. 

Days after I had desecrated my body and that of my sister Grace with the ‘forbidden act’, I felt I had lost something in me.

I became depressed, as it was an act committed not out of my will but out of lust.

My world became even more shattered a few months later when I heard that Deacon Paul Pablo had run mad.

According to reports, Pablo was into some evil money-making ritual’.

His wealth was ill-gotten and was supposed to last him for a few years. I guess that marked the end of his journey.

Pablo had been the only huge financial support system in my ministry.

I was that jobless young man who relied on the ministry. And I never bothered to know the kind of money Pablo makes;

But I was only desperately in need of his money to ease my burdens in the ministry.

Now, who will keep paying the 1 million naira rent fee for the hall I used on Sunday?

Who will take up Pablo’s position to meet the needs of my flock?

Where will I start from?

That was the moment I knew I had gotten something wrong from the start. 

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)

The next Sunday, after my beclouded week, I didn’t bother to go to my church; I followed my parents to their church. 

“Son, what’s wrong? Are you not going to your church today? My father asked.

“Father, don’t worry. All is well. Let us go to your church.” I said, pretending to be okay.

I sat down in the church in grief as I listened to the pastor’s message with an open mind. 

At the end of the message, he made an altar call:

“If you want to rededicate your life to Christ, please come out,” the pastor said.

Immediately, I stood up. 

Everyone, including my parents, stared at me once again in surprise.

“What has Bantu done again?!”

Those were the words that probably flowed through their minds at that point. 

I rededicated my life completely to Christ to start all over again. 

After the service, my pastor called me into his office out of curiosity to know where I had been all this time. 

“It’s a long story, pastor,” I said to him, sighing deeply.

I narrated all my ordeals to him, and then he prayed for me and said to me:

“Brother Bantu what you faced was only a sign that you are not ready for ministry yet, even if God truly wants to use you.

You are gifted, but now is the time for you to go back to Sunday school to grow properly in ministry.” 

This time, I took my pastor’s words to heart and went back to the Sunday school class to learn.

However, my scars still followed me. I now have to redeem my lost time and clean up my messes. 

Romans 12:3 KJV

[3] For I say, through the grace given unto me, to every man that is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think; but to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith.

https://bible.com/bible/1/rom.12.3.KJV

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)

Lesson:

“Your eagerness and haste to be a teacher or coach will rob you of the meekness required to be a good learner.

It is the reason roots don’t go deep and the reason many will not stand the test of time at whatever they’re doing.

Calm down, immerse yourself in the process, and let your roots go deep. Be grounded.

No!!! You are not yet an expert, consultant, or authority. 

The moment you arrogate that to yourself, you stop learning subconsciously. And when you stop learning, you stop growing.”

~Olajide Abiola

Also Read: The Destiny Killers – Diademng (thediademng.org)

The Unripe Master (Heart touching story)