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IF YOU HAVE THE FEAR OF MARRIAGE, DO THIS👇🏽

If you are experiencing and hearing that voice that says, “What if mine ends in divorce?” “What if I marry wrong?” “What if I lose myself too in marriage?”

That fear of marriage that sneaks in like a quiet whisper in the night.

It’s not random. You do need to trace where it’s coming from. Because fear doesn’t just appear. It feeds on something.

1. Check the information you’re consuming.

Fear is often a product of the content we feed on.

Are you constantly watching “marriage is a sc@m” podcasts? Scrolling through bitter takes, broken love stories, and tox!c narratives?

If all you see is ch@os, your mind will believe love is ch@otic too. You must protect your heart by filtering your intake. What you feed on becomes what you fear or what you believe in.

2. Check what you actually know.

Fear is a message. It often says, “I don’t know enough to trust this process.”

If all you know is what you’ve seen from pain-filled homes, cheating partners, or emotionally unavailable spouses, you won’t believe something different is possible.

Ignorance breeds fear. But wisdom and knowledge births confidence. The Bible even said that knowledge can make you confident in a way that it puffs you up.

Learn. Ask questions. Understand what healthy marriage really looks like. Not fantasy. Not perfection. But truth. Reality. Purpose.

3. Check what you’re focusing on.

Where your focus goes, your emotions follow.

If you only see marriages that failed, of course your heart will panic.

But let me ask you this:
Are there no good marriages?
Are there no couples growing in love, building together, weathering storms and still choosing each other daily?

Shift your focus. Don’t let one heartbreak become the template for your future. How can you read a story and the first thing that comes out of your mouth is, “You sure say person go marry so?” “Marriage is becoming scary.”

4. Check your circle.

You can’t keep walking with people who speak d£ath over something you’re trying to build life in.

If everyone around you his marriage, mocks it, fears it, or has horrible experiences with it, guess what you’ll absorb?

Their fear will become your fear.
Their b!tterness, your defence mechanism.
Their disappointment, your expectation.

Sometimes, to heal your mindset, you need new voices. New stories. New examples.

So, surround yourself with people who love marriage not because it’s easy, but because they’ve chosen to grow through it.

Fear doesn’t mean something is wrong with you.
It just means something needs to be addressed. Might be what you're hearing, what you're focusing on, or the people you hang around.

Don’t allow fear be in charge of your life. Let truth rewire your belief.

TAG someone you care about to see this. If this makes sense, you can SHARE it to help others having the fear of marriage.

- Nelson Asuen

THE MOST USED SLAVE OF THE FULANIS. TODAY HE IS WATCHING WHILE HIS MASTERS ARE SLAUGHTERING HIS PEOPLE.

THE STORY OF A MAN WHO SOLD THE FUTURE OF HIS PEOPLE INTO FULANI HANDS

He who listens to only one side of a story and draws conclusion is guilty of murder.

Nemanja Matic: “Onana said they’re way better than us? When you are one of WORST goalkeepers in Man United history, you need to take care what you’re talking about”.

“If it was Van der Sar, Schmeichel or de Gea saying that, ok… but Onana, he’s one of the worst”.

Been a long time
So.sorry i wasnt able to finisn the story's
But im back now
Episode 4: The Name No One Says

The morning light did nothing to chase away the unease clawing at Vanessa’s chest. Shadows still clung to the corners of her room as if reluctant to let go. The deep scratch on the door was real—she had run her fingers over it more than once, feeling the raw edges where the wood had been torn.

Something had been outside her door last night. Something that wasn’t human.

She needed answers.

Vanessa stepped into the hallway, every step careful, her ears tuned for any sound. The Hollow Inn was quiet, but not the peaceful kind. It was the kind of quiet that hummed with something unseen, something waiting.

Downstairs, the innkeeper was behind the front desk, her thin fingers slowly polishing a tarnished key. She didn’t look up when Vanessa approached.

"I need to ask you something," Vanessa said, keeping her voice steady.

The old woman exhaled through her nose, still not looking up. "You should leave."

Vanessa tightened her grip on her notebook. "I got a note last night. Someone—something—was outside my door." She hesitated. "And I saw the newspaper. Black Hollow disappeared in 1962. But it’s here. And so are you."

The innkeeper’s hands stilled.

For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, slowly, she lifted her head. Her eyes were pale, almost colorless, like fog rolling over dead water.

"You ask too many questions."

Vanessa swallowed. "I’m a journalist. It’s my job."

The woman’s gaze darkened. "Your job won’t matter if you’re dead."

A chill crawled up Vanessa’s spine. She wanted to push, demand more, but something in the woman’s tone—something final—made her pause.

Before she could say anything else, the bell above the inn’s door jingled.

A man stepped inside. He was older, his face lined with deep wrinkles, his clothes faded and worn. His eyes locked onto Vanessa, and she swore she saw recognition flicker there—though she had never seen him before in her life.

"New girl should go," he muttered. "Before it finds her."

Vanessa frowned. "Before what finds me?"

The man hesitated, glancing at the innkeeper. Her expression didn’t change, but something unsaid passed between them.

Then he turned back to Vanessa and said, "The thing that took this town."

The air left her lungs.

The innkeeper let out a slow breath. "Don’t say its name."

The man’s mouth tightened. "Names give power. And it’s already watching her."

Vanessa’s heart pounded. "What is watching me?"

The man licked his lips, hesitating. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said:

"The Hollow Man."

The room seemed to shrink around her, the air suddenly too thick to breathe.

The innkeeper’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood. "You fool," she hissed. "Do you want to call it here?"

The man’s hands trembled. He took a step back. "It already knows."

A gust of wind howled through the inn, rattling the windows. The front door—though it had been firmly shut—creaked open an inch.

Vanessa’s breath hitched.

Outside, through the tiny gap in the door, something stood in the fog.

Tall. Motionless.

Waiting.

And though it had no face, she could feel its gaze locked onto her.


---

I pray for you this morning as you worship in God's presence.
Whatever situation in your life that has not turned out well before now will receive the supernatural touch by the reason of today's service and turn out well,
May the story of your life not have a regret in it
May the Lord turn out all the situations that give you heartache to joy in Jesus mighty name.
Good morning and may the whole Sunday service of this morning be a life changing experience for you and your entire family in Jesus mighty name. Shalom.

During slavery, it was illegal for Africans to read any book other than the Bible. Anyone caught reading philosophy, science, governance, history, economics or any other genre of literature, faced the death penalty.

Why was this so?

The slave masters understood that the Bible was a tool to limit the thinking of black Africans and to keep them perpetually subservient. They knew that to keep them in servitude they had to make them accept their lot as the will of God and have them thinking about the end of days, these things will keep them in perpetual servitude. They refused to give them anything good but they gave them Christianity and the bible.

Over five hundred years later, the descendants of the slaves who were whipped, tortured, raped and murdered, now confess implicit confidence in the same Bible. (a book hurriedly put together by Emperor Constantine in 325 AD when he decreed Christianity - an infusion of Roman paganism, Greek and Egyptian mythology" as the new State religion and his troops would violently convert most of the world's populations to this newly formed order by force and through violence.

Ephesians 6:5
"Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ." lent divine credence to the predicament of slaves and consigned them to perpetual slavery. Revolting against the oppressors, was a direct rejection of God - so they were made to believe.

Today, many Africans claim to know the Bible from the beginning to the end but they know little about themselves or ideas that can improve their lives. They can feel Jesus in their spirits and they are absolutely sure that Christianity is the only true religion. They are waiting for an apocalyptic climax to humanity where a blue eyed, blonde haired Caucasian savior would appear from the sky at the sound of a trumpet, to save them from debilitating poverty, a dysfunctional system, diseases and imbecility. 500 years later, Africans are still languishing in profuse ignorance.

The damage has been done.

In the words of the late scholar Dr. Henrik Clark;

"To control a people, you must first control what they think about themselves and how they regard their history and culture. And when your conqueror makes you ashamed of your culture and history, he needs no prison walls and chains to hold you". Copied

WOMB ON TRIAL

EPISODE 3:

I didn’t sleep after that. How could I? My own husband—my supposed protector—was conspiring against me. Each word from his phone call replayed in my mind like a cruel echo.

"She won’t suspect anything."

But I did. And now, I had to find out what they were planning before it was too late.

By the time Emeka drifted into a deep sleep, his phone was still beside him, unlocked. I hesitated. I had never invaded his privacy before, but this wasn’t about privacy. This was about survival.

Slowly, I reached for the phone and scrolled through his call logs. The last call had been with Mama. My fingers trembled as I clicked on their messages.

Mama: She’s taking too long. It’s time for the next step.

Emeka: I’ll talk to her, but we have to be careful. She’s already suspicious.

Mama: Then stop wasting time. The girl is ready. We can’t delay any longer.

I froze.

"The girl is ready?"

I scrolled up frantically, my breath hitching. Then, I saw it. A name I didn’t recognize—Chisom.

There were pictures. A beautiful young woman, smiling shyly, dressed in traditional attire. My stomach twisted.

"They had already chosen my replacement."

A wave of nausea hit me, and I barely made it to the bathroom before emptying my stomach. The realization crashed over me like a tidal wave—I was being erased.

Wiping my mouth, I gripped the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were red, my face pale. The woman looking back at me wasn’t the same Nkechi who had walked into this marriage full of hope.

"I can’t stay here."

But leaving wasn’t just about packing a bag and walking away. I knew my family would never support a divorce. And Emeka’s family? They wouldn’t let me leave quietly.

I had to be smart.

Taking one last look at my sleeping husband, I made a silent vow.

"You think I don’t suspect anything, Emeka? Watch me."

I was going to find out everything they were planning. And when I did, I would make sure I was the one who decided how this story ended.

TO BE CONTINUED...✍️✍️✍️

#catalystboost #storytelling #virals #story #storytime #trendingpost

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