I Rejected the Richest Guy in Church—Here’s Why I Don’t Regret It: Episode 20

I Rejected the Richest Guy in Church—Here’s Why I Don’t Regret It: Episode 20

EPISODE 20: Fortified

I didn’t run from church.

I didn’t dodge the stares.

I didn’t hide.

I showed up that Sunday dressed in calm confidence. Simple white blouse, ankle-length wine skirt, no makeup—just lip balm and a clean face. But it wasn’t the outfit that made people turn. It was the silence I carried like a sword.

The kind of silence that says: I know things you won’t believe until time makes you see them.

Worship started, and I poured myself into it like I was the only one in the room. My hands lifted not in performance, but in surrender. My eyes shut, my voice cracked, my heart burned.

“Refiner… I wanna be tried by fire…”

That line hit different now.

Because fire had come.

But it didn’t consume me.

It refined me.

I opened my eyes during the last chorus and caught him staring from the fourth row—Charles. Polished as usual, in his ash-colored senator wear and fake humility smile. He nodded at me slightly, like we were in on some private joke.

I didn’t smile back.

I looked away like he was furniture.

Let him think what he wanted.

After service, I stayed back. Sat quietly while everyone greeted and buzzed around. I wasn’t in a rush. I didn’t need to run.

I was no longer afraid of what people thought.

I didn’t owe anyone explanations.

Later that evening, I journaled everything. Grace’s words. My emotions. The revelations. The peace. The pain. I needed to process it all. Not for closure, but for clarity.

And then I prayed.

Not the “Lord, punish him” kind of prayer. Not the “expose him now!” type either.

I just said: “Lord, thank You for protecting me. Help me grow through this. Heal what I don’t even know is wounded. And let Your truth speak louder than my silence ever could.”

And for the first time in weeks… I slept like a baby.

No nightmares.
No tension.
No anxiety.

Just peace.

The kind of peace that makes no sense until you remember who your Father is.

Because something had shifted.

I wasn’t bitter anymore.

I wasn’t confused.

I was becoming fortified.

I knew the storm wasn’t over—but I also knew I wouldn’t drown.

And the next time Charles would make a move…

I wouldn’t just be ready.

I’d be standing on solid ground.

To be continued…