UNSHACKLED; A CHRISTMAS STORY OF MERCY

UNSHACKLED; A CHRISTMAS STORY OF MERCY

♫ ♫ This is my story, this is my song

Praising my Savior all day long

This is my story, this is my song

It’s praising my Savior all the day long

This is my story, this is my song

praising my savior, all day long ♫ ♫ ♫ ♪ ♪

I felt a soft tap on my shoulder, as Tobi reached to hand me a paper towel. I smiled as I took it from her. I could no longer control the tears as they slowly rolled down my cheeks. The paper towel was meant to soak up my tears, but the moment it brushed against my face, it was as if the floodgates opened wide, and the grief poured out uncontrollably. It was a release of emotions I hadn’t fully acknowledged until that very moment.

As I sat in the third row, singing the last verse of Blessed Assurance and quietly reflecting on the vivid memories of my past, I let out a deep sigh as the realization hit me.

“God has been good to me.” I breathed calmly.

I entered the university as a cheerful, confident young girl with big dreams. I still remember how often people complimented my smile, calling it beautiful, and how I would blush and flash an even brighter smile, knowing how contagious it was. On one hand, I was excited about the future and eager to see how my life would unfold. At the same time, like any new “fresher,” I was curious to explore. Don’t get me wrong—I was a church girl. I knew “of” God and had made up my mind to avoid “sinful” activities like smoking, drinking, or clubbing—the things I thought only bad boys and girls did. But for a long time, I had dreamed of experiencing life fully and purely.

Joining a church felt like the perfect first step and that was exactly what i did, attending programs regularly, building friendships, joining a church unit. Meanwhile, i continued to keep my heart and eyes open for the chance at true love.

I didn’t grow up with my parents. They left me with my aunt after their split up when I was only six years old. While I’m grateful to her for raising me, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief when I finally left her home. The endless arguments between her and her husband often left me feeling sorry for her. Still, I held on to hope. I was determined to find love and embrace it—unlike my mom or aunt. At least, that’s what I believed. I was a dreamy girl with a big heart, and when i eventually I got my first boyfriend, I poured all of myself into the relationship. Every day after classes, I would go to his place to cook and clean. I still remember how we’d sit and eat together, and he’d look into my eyes. His gaze felt like it pierced straight into my soul, searching for answers I couldn’t give and leaving me trembling. It was intoxicating—more intense than anything I had ever imagined.

“This must be it” i thought to myself. I was finally experiencing the love i had only dreamed of.

Before long, I gave him my body because cooking and cleaning no longer felt enough, and I was desperate to hold on to him. At first, it was thrilling, but as time went on, I found myself giving more and more, convinced that was the small price I needed to pay.

But it wasn’t enough. Eventually, he grew distant, and I started to feel inadequate. My big heart, which I once saw as my strength, began to feel like a burden. It wasn’t just him—others I dated afterward saw it too. The love I craved always seemed out of reach, and the satisfaction I hoped for was nowhere to be found. With each failed relationship, my self-esteem crumbled further. I kept moving from one relationship to another, desperate for the love and acceptance I longed for but never found. The most intriguing part of all of this is that I never left church, yet looking back now, I can see that it was God’s mercy to me.

On the day everything changed, I had just left the house of the guy I was dating at the time, and I went to share the news that I was pregnant again. His response, as it always was, was cold and dismissive—he told me to terminate it, again, and that’s what I did.

 For some reason I decided to go to church later that evening, my heart felt heavy as I walked into church, masking my inner chaos with a smile. On the outside, I looked like I had it all together, but inside, I was drowning. I felt broken, trapped in the weight of my mistakes, and the worthlessness I had been carrying for so long had only deepened. I was a living and walking reminder of everything I regretted. The events of that service are still a blur in my mind, but I remember crying throughout, my tears blending with the worship and prayers around me. Amid the overwhelming emotion, one statement stuck with me.

“God is light, and in Him, there is no darkness at all”

As the words resounded in my mind, I knew right there that I needed help, I needed that light. After the service, I left the church and headed to one of the halls in school, needing a quiet space to process everything and sit with my thoughts. I picked up my pen to draw but broke down in tears—it had been years since I last created anything. Drawing had always been a deeply creative part of me, like an outlet, but now, with my mind clouded, even simple strokes felt chaotic. The harder I tried to fix it, the more I ruined it, just as I had with my life over the past years.

This time, I couldn’t hold back the sobs. It had to end—all of it had to end.

“Shh… it’s okay, it’s okay.”

I felt warm arms pull me into a tight embrace. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt comforted. Could God have really been kind enough to send me help?

That was the first time I met Tobi.

“I’m too far gone,” I muttered repeatedly, my voice trembling with despair. Once I calmed down, I opened up to her, sharing everything I could. She listened, prayed with me, and gently said to me

“Come to God-you can never be too far gone in His eyes. Let His light soak you in and release you from all the burdens you carry”.

“God is light…” I heard it again.

“You don’t get it—the kind of life I have lived,” I said, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and frustration. It’s easy for you to sit there and say all this, but you have no idea what it’s like to carry regrets this heavy.”

Tobi looked at me with calm, unwavering eyes. Then she said, “There is the sin nature, and there are sinful actions. The sin nature is inherited, while sinful actions are the things we choose to do. The actions are just symptoms—manifestations of the sinful nature we’ve all inherited. Even if a person claims to be morally upright, they still need Jesus. That’s because it’s the sin nature that separates us from God. Jesus’ death doesn’t just forgive our sinful actions; it destroys the sin nature and gives us a new one. When we receive this new nature, we no longer live according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit.”—Romans 8:1

She gently held my hands, her voice firm, yet compassionate, and continued: “If we say we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and refusing to accept the truth. But if we confess our sins to Him, He is faithful and just to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:8–9).

Her words seemed to echo in the corners of my mind, challenging everything I had believed about myself and my life. Before we parted, Tobi promised to stay in touch and we exchanged contacts. As I watched her leave, I felt a faint glimmer of hope—perhaps the first sign of light breaking through this thick cloud of darkness.

Here I am, almost six years later—a completely different person. The journey has been nothing short of miraculous. I look back and see a version of myself that feels so distant, almost like a faint shadow. Through the years, God has been at work—day by day, moment by moment—reshaping, refining, and restoring me. Today, this Dunsin is alive in every sense of the word. I’ve been set free from the weight of guilt and the chains of shame. I stand firm, rooted in my God-given identity, secure in who I am because of Him. More than that, my heart beats with genuine love for God—a love that fuels my life and gives it purpose. Sometimes, I pause, overwhelmed by the realization of just how much God can do with a heart that fully surrenders. It’s breathtaking to think about the transformation He brings when we let Him in.

Believe me, there are days when the devil tries to sneak in, planting thoughts, desires and reminders of my past, attempting to paint them as my present reality. But each time, I am reminded of the truth in God’s Word, “Those who have been born into God’s family do not sin, because God’s life is in them. So they can’t keep on sinning, because they have been born of God”. In that moment, I speak to myself, saying, “Oluwadunsin, you have lost the ability to sin.” Those words ground me in the reality of who I am in Christ.

Every Christmas, I make it a point to share my story with the young designers who now work with me. Oh, did I mention I design for fashion brands? Even now, my lips curl into a grin at the thought. It’s always a time of deep reflection for me. I know firsthand what it means to encounter God’s mercy and love. Telling that story never fails to fill my heart with gratitude.

“I see you want to spend the whole day here,” Tobi teased, nudging me gently. Her voice, rich with laughter, brought me back to the present. “Well, since it’s your Father’s house, I don’t mind finishing all the chicken at home”. I chuckled, meeting her gaze. Tobi had been by my side for almost six years, her unwavering faith and warmth making her one of the most incredible people I’d ever met. She truly was God’s gift to me—a daily reminder that His blessings often come wrapped in the people He places in our lives.

The hum of conversations and the echo of distant carols swirled around us as we walked down the aisle and out of the church. Together, we are stepping into a future painted with God’s promises, a future I am learning to trust even when I can’t see the full picture, taking giant strides from the past into the future with so much grace and anticipation.