Megyn woke up very early—five o'clock sharp. For the first time in what felt like ages, she had slept peacefully through the evening and deep into the night. No tossing. No racing thoughts. No thoughts of exams. Just the calm of uninterrupted rest.
A gentle morning breeze filtered through the half-open window, carrying with it the scent of fresh dew, the distant chirping of birds, and the soft rustle of leaves. It was a different kind of morning—the new day that whispered promise.
She lay still for a moment, then, slowly, the memories of the previous evening returned. She had been on the phone with Benjamin, her fiancé, but fatigue had consumed her entirely. He wanted to take her out for dinner, but she was so tired and wasn't ready for it.
Guilt pinched her heart as she recalled snapping at Cindy, her closest friend. Cindy had agreed with Benjamin about a double date, but Megyn—emotionally drained and overwhelmed—had switched off her phone and asked her to leave the room.
Her chest tightened slightly.
She didn't deserve that. I need to apologize. The thought lingered as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
She padded across the room and into the bathroom, taking a long, hot shower that felt almost ceremonial—like cleansing not just her body but her uncertainty. She dressed in grey sweatpants and a matching hooded top. Comfortable outfit, and intentionally casual.
She made a quick breakfast—chocolate milk and cookies. She didn't have much of an appetite, but she knew she needed the energy.
As she took her breakfast she kept thinking of the session she had scheduled with her church pastor. She had called earlier in the week to request a private conversation, something she hadn't told even Cindy or Benjamin. She needed a space free of emotion, free of pressure—just truth, clarity, and guidance.
At six o'clock sharp, Megyn left the hostel, her phone in her pocket, her steps steady. The path to the church was quiet, the campus still in a hush. She passed the dorms, the gardens, the silent library, all familiar spaces now shrouded in morning calm.
Overhead, the sky glowed in strokes of pink and gold—daybreak blooming.The church compound came into view. Modest and serene, it had become a kind of sanctuary for her in recent months. She walked slowly toward the church pastor's office, heart gently thudding.
The pastor and his wife were already waiting. They greeted her with soft smiles and warm eyes. The pastor gestured to a couch in the reception area of the office
"Let's sit here," he said gently. "It's peaceful."
After a brief prayer and a kind introduction of his wife, the pastor looked at Megyn with a steady gaze.
"So, Megyn. What's on your heart this morning?"
Megyn smiled faintly. Her fingers absentmindedly twisted the hem of her hoodie.
"Pastor… I love Benjamin. Truly. And I know he loves me too. We've grown so close, so connected, it's like we're already part of each other's lives. But… I'm afraid."
The pastor didn't interrupt. He nodded, inviting her to continue.
She looked down at her lap.
"Yesterday, I had just finished my final exams. I was exhausted—physically, mentally, emotionally. But the only thing I wanted more than sleep was to see him. He had planned to take me out to dinner, to celebrate, and my heart longed for that. But I… I shut everything off. I locked my phone, closed my door, and just slept."
A heavy pause.
"I don't know why I did that," she admitted. "Maybe because I was scared that if I saw him, I'd have to face what's next. And I don't know if I'm ready."
The pastor's voice was calm.
"Why are you afraid, Megyn? You're engaged to him."
"I know. And I want this—us. I want a life with Benjamin. I've dreamed of it. But… every time I get close to the edge of deciding fully, something inside freezes. What if I can't be the wife he deserves? What if I'm not enough? What if love doesn't last?"
The pastor exchanged a glance with his wife before turning back to Megyn.
"Those are valid fears. But fear, Megyn, often disguises itself as wisdom. It whispers doubts that feel like truth, when in reality, they are barriers to faith. You see, commitment isn't about certainty of outcomes—it's about confidence in purpose."
He opened his Bible and began to tell the story of Isaac and Rebekah. "They didn't date for years. There were no elaborate proposals. Just obedience, prayer, and trust. And their journey wasn't without struggles. But it was grounded in God's will."
The pastor's wife added softly,
"Happiness isn't the absence of struggle. It's the presence of peace, even when things are hard."
Megyn nodded slowly. The words were sinking in.
"You and Benjamin have walked a journey of growth, love, and resilience. That's not something to brush aside," the pastor continued. "What you're feeling is decision paralysis. Your heart is ready, but your mind is stalling. The enemy uses hesitation to steal good things from us. But love—real love—is worth the risk."
Megyn sat back and looked at the empty couch opposite her. Her thoughts wandered to the many moments she had envisioned herself as Benjamin's wife—welcoming him after work, sharing quiet meals, holding hands during prayer. These weren't fantasies. They were glimpses of a future she wanted deeply.
So why was I still holding back? she asked herself.
She closed her eyes for a moment. She remembered how Benjamin looked at her—full of admiration, never pressure. How he always checked on her, how he gave her space but never withdrew love. How he celebrated her achievements, even the small ones. He had been consistent, steady and safe.
And her? She had overthought everything.
"I really do want to marry him," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "But I've let fear blur my vision."
The pastor's wife leaned forward and took Megyn's hand in hers.
"Then maybe it's time to stop asking what if… and start asking what now."
Megyn's eyes welled up. Not with sadness—but with clarity.
"I want to choose him. Not because it's perfect. Not because I'm fearless. But because love is worth choosing—again and again."
The pastor smiled. "That's what faith looks like. Not the absence of fear, but the courage to walk forward anyway."
Megyn stood up slowly, a new stillness in her spirit.
"Thank you," she said. "I came here needing clarity, and I've found it. I'm ready to say yes. Completely."
The sun had risen higher now, casting golden light across the church compound. She hugged the pastor's wife, then shook his hand with gratitude.
As she walked away, her steps felt lighter, more assured. She pulled out her phone, heart thumping—not with fear this time, but with anticipation, she unlocked it. Benjamin and Cindy hat tried to call her many times.
She dialed Benjamin's number.
When he answered with his familiar, warm "Hey, Princess,"
she smiled and said, "Benj, I need to talk to you. Today. In person."
There was a pause, then his voice lit up. "Absolutely. I'm in your room. Is everything okay?"
"More than okay," she replied. "...and who allowed you in my room?"
"Never mind. Come to your room. I'm waiting."
Whatever Megyn had decided, she meant it—with her whole heart.
She increased her pace. The only thing that was in her mind was seeing Benjamin's face.