The doorstep to the temple of wisdom is a knowledge of our own ignorance.

Colorado Couple Who Vanished in 2011 Found Eight Years Later Sitting in Abandoned Utah Mine.

In a case that haunted both families and baffled authorities for nearly a decade, the remains of two Colorado tourists. Sarah Bennett, 26, and Andrew Miller, 28 were discovered in 2019 deep inside a sealed uranium mine in southern Utah, eight years after their mysterious disappearance.

The couple set out on what was supposed to be a peaceful weekend camping trip in May 2011. Known for their love of photography and nature, they had planned a three-day escape to explore the ghostly beauty of the remote San Rafael Swel. A harsh, windswept expanse of desert marked by old uranium mines and rocky canyons.

"They weren’t adventurers," Sarah’s sister, Emily Bennett, told The Denver Post in 2020. "They were just looking for quiet. For time away from work and the noise of life."

But Sarah and Andrew never returned.

Their last known location was a gas station in Green River, Utah, where they filled up their Subaru Outback and bought a map of Emery County. After that, they vanished without a trace. An extensive search involving helicopters, volunteers, dogs, and drones yielded nothing. The desert had swallowed them whole.

Years passed. Rumors circulated; foul play, cartel involvement, even alien theories but no solid leads emerged.

Then, in August 2019, a group of geology students from the University of Utah stumbled upon something chilling while exploring an old uranium mining shaft near Temple Mountain.

About 300 feet into the mine, they discovered two fully clothed skeletons, seated side-by-side on rusted folding chairs. Next to them was a broken lantern, a rusted thermos, and an old Nikon camera.

The mine had collapsed further inward, sealing the bodies in what experts called a "natural crypt," preserving much of the scene.

Dental records confirmed the worst: it was Sarah and Andrew.

The exact cause of death remains officially "undetermined,"

God hates indecency, ur body is the temple of the Holy Ghost. Repent if you're like this

*OPEN HEAVENS DAILY DEVOTIONAL*

*DATE: FRIDAY, JULY 11TH, 2025*

*THEME: PHYSICAL EXERCISE IS PROFITABLE*


*MEMORISE:*
*“For bodily exercise profiteth little: but godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come.” - (1 Timothy 4:8)*

*READ: 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 (KJV)*

19. Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own?

20. For you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God's.

*MESSAGE:*
Today's memory verse tells us that the profit from spiritual exercise - which is godliness - far outweighs that of physical exercise but also implies that the little profit from physical exercise cannot be gained from spiritual exercise. To function excellently in this physical realm, you need your body to be active and healthy, hence the need for physical exercise. If you ignore the little profit from physical exercise, no matter how godly you are, you just may shorten your lifespan here on earth by yourself.

Many people today want to live a soft life. They do not want to engage in things that will stress their bodies or stretch their muscles. They want life to be soft and easy, even though the Bible says that we should endure hardness as good soldiers of Christ *(2 Timothy 2:3).* You need to be in good physical shape to do the things that God put you on the earth to do. Therefore, you should always find time to exercise your body so that you can remain physically fit for God's use.

Nowadays, a lot of people are living endangered lives because they do not exert themselves physically. They move from airconditioned rooms in their houses to airconditioned cars and then airconditioned offices. Many people will not even attend a church without air conditioning. However, doctors advise that it is important to sweat. It is also important to stay under the sun for a while every day, especially around midday, because sunlight has tremendous qualities that are good for the body. Personally, I exert myself physically by going on prayer walks regularly. The walks help me to stay in good shape physically, while the prayers help me to maintain good spiritual health.

Beloved, God cares about the health of your body *(3 John 1:2).* He cares about how you treat the container that He has given to you to enable you to fulfil your purpose on earth. Regular exercise will help you manage your weight, and it will help strengthen your bones and muscles. It will also reduce your risk of getting sick and improve your ability to perform your daily activities effectively. Regular exercise will also improve your mental health. If you have a job that requires you to sit for long periods of time, or if you work from your home, physical exercise must be part of your daily routine. Do not let your desire for a soft lifestyle shorten your lifespan.

*ACTION POINT:*
Kickstart a regular physical exercise routine today if you do not have one.

*BIBLE IN ONE YEAR:*
Ecclesiastes 5-8

*AUTHOR: PASTOR E.A ADEBOYE*

*HYMN 7 - I AM THINE O LORD*

1. I am Thine, O Lord
I have heard Thy voice,
And it told Thy love to me;
But I long to rise in the arms of faith
And be closer drawn to Thee.

*CHORUS:*
Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
To the cross where Thou hast died;
Draw me nearer, nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
To Thy precious, bleeding side.

2. Consecrate me now to Thy service, Lord
By the power of grace divine
Let my soul look up with a steadfast hope,
And my will be lost in Thine.

3. Oh, the pure delight of a single hour
That before Thy throne I spend,
When I kneel in prayer, and with Thee, my God
I commune as friend with friend!

4. There are depths of love that I cannot know
Till I cross the narrow sea;
There are heights of joy that I may not reach
Till I rest in peace with Thee.

FREE SEX THAT KILLS GREAT MINISTRY

Take note.

There is something in ministry that is more dangerous than poverty, more poisonous than betrayal, and more destructive than persecution.

It is free sex that seductive lie that your anointing is too strong to fall, and your grace too deep to sink.

But son, let me tell you clearly: FREE SEX IS NOT FREE. It will cost you your fire, your favor, and eventually your future if you don’t kill it early.

You are not stronger than Samson. He carried gates, slew armies, but could not conquer the thighs of Delilah.

One night in her lap was enough to finish years of divine investment. His hair grew back, but his eyes never did.

Sexual sin blinds, binds, and grinds. Many men of power became prisoners of lust because they refused to flee when they should have run.

I have watched young ministers lose oil on strange beds.

I have seen revivals die not in the open, but under the sheets. Son, when Satan wants to cripple a destiny he doesn’t always come with horns sometimes, he comes in heels and soft words.

He sends a woman not to help, but to harvest what God has planted in you.

Don't be deceived. Ministry is not maintained by preaching well but by living well.

One sexual mistake can scatter what took years of fasting, prayer, and labor to build.

Ask David. One evening glance at Bathsheba brought blood into his house for generations. Yes, he repented. But he lost his child, his peace, and his testimony. Grace forgives, but scars remain.

Son, the people you sleep with today may be the reason your altar dries tomorrow.

Free sex is a spiritual transaction every time you engage in it, you’re exchanging your oil for dust. Satan doesn’t need to kill you; he just needs to leak your consecration.

Don’t ever think the body doesn’t matter. Your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost not a guest house for temporary pleasure.

(1 Corinthians 6:18-20). FLEE FORNICATION. That’s not a suggestion, it’s a command.

Follow 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬𝐎𝐟𝐀𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲

FREE SEX THAT KILLS GREAT MINISTRY

Take note.

There is something in ministry that is more dangerous than poverty, more poisonous than betrayal, and more destructive than persecution.

It is free sex that seductive lie that your anointing is too strong to fall, and your grace too deep to sink.

But son, let me tell you clearly: FREE SEX IS NOT FREE. It will cost you your fire, your favor, and eventually your future if you don’t kill it early.

You are not stronger than Samson. He carried gates, slew armies, but could not conquer the thighs of Delilah.

One night in her lap was enough to finish years of divine investment. His hair grew back, but his eyes never did.

Sexual sin blinds, binds, and grinds. Many men of power became prisoners of lust because they refused to flee when they should have run.

I have watched young ministers lose oil on strange beds.

I have seen revivals die not in the open, but under the sheets. Son, when Satan wants to cripple a destiny he doesn’t always come with horns sometimes, he comes in heels and soft words.

He sends a woman not to help, but to harvest what God has planted in you.

Don't be deceived. Ministry is not maintained by preaching well but by living well.

One sexual mistake can scatter what took years of fasting, prayer, and labor to build.

Ask David. One evening glance at Bathsheba brought blood into his house for generations. Yes, he repented. But he lost his child, his peace, and his testimony. Grace forgives, but scars remain.

Son, the people you sleep with today may be the reason your altar dries tomorrow.

Free sex is a spiritual transaction every time you engage in it, you’re exchanging your oil for dust. Satan doesn’t need to kill you; he just needs to leak your consecration.

Don’t ever think the body doesn’t matter. Your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost not a guest house for temporary pleasure.

(1 Corinthians 6:18-20). FLEE FORNICATION. That’s not a suggestion, it’s a command.

Follow 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬𝐎𝐟𝐀𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲

AWOLOWO SPEAKS

*** Please read the letter below, by Chief Awolowo requesting for an education loan from Chief Timothy Adeola Odutola on March 25, 1943 , (the richest Ijebu man in those days) and promised to pay back by 1955. It is fascinating, long and interesting. ****

~ LETTER:

Dear Mr. Odutola,

I think it will be an exceeding saving of time and more business-like if I avoid all sweet preliminaries and go straight into the object of this letter and say that I am writing to ask you to be good enough to lend me a sum of £1,400 (One thousand and four hundred pounds) free of interest for twelve years.

It is a staggering figure! More staggering indeed does it become, when it is realized that I, who am asking for this loan, have nothing in all the world to give as a security for this money, excepting my good faith and my brains which again are of value only so long as I continue to breathe the breath of life!

Nevertheless, I here proceed to outline in brief why i want this big loan from you. And I hope you will be kind enough to sacrifice some time to go through what I have to say, even though, in the end you might find yourself unable to do me this grand favour.

One great ambition of mine since my boyhood days is to be a lawyer, a politician and a journalist, rolled into one. I cherish politics and journalism as a career, and I desire advocacy as a means of livelihood. For you will agree with me that a politician or journalist who has no money with which to support himself and family comfortably, is like a blade which has no razor.

Now, at one time, I was on the verge of making enough money with which I could proceed to England in order to pursue the object of my ambition; but I suffered a twist in my fortune, and I crashed. Ever since, I have tried without success to recover lost grounds, financially. But spiritually and intellectually, I have made appreciable advance in spite of towering difficulties, all of which have now been surmounted.

As you are aware, I have just passed the intermediate Bachelor of Commerce Examination. Next year, I am taking the final B.Com. Having a degree is not my goal; I hate to be a government or mercantile employee. Otherwise, there are opportunities for me here and there to get a suitable and well paid job under government or one of the mercantile houses. As you know, however, once I become an employee of government or a mercantile establishment that is the end to my career as a politician and journalist. I have therefore resolved that under no circumstances will I take up such employment.

That is just by the way. I am now thirty-four years of age. After careful thought, I have come to the conclusion that if I could raise a loan free of interest sufficient to cover expenses, I should go to England, this year and within three years, I should qualify as a Barrister –at –law, and also obtain with Honours the LL.B Degree of London University. In addition this degrees apart from giving me good backing as a solicitor and Advocate will help me immensely as a politician and journalist.

But where on earth could i get the money? Who in Nigeria today could give £1,400 free of interest to help his fellow-man? J. Henry Doherty, Esq., of illustrious memory who did the like to many successful Nigerians is no more. But after meticulous, shifting and weighing, I hit upon you.

I have no doubt whatsoever in my mind that out of the bounty with which providence blesses your grit and efforts as a businessman, you can well easily afford to advance such a sum of money. I have no doubt too that as a young and progressive man you will be quite happy to give the money for the pursuit of the project for which I desire it.

But then, could you take this risk?

That is the question. As I have said before, I have no security for this loan. Moreover, I want it free of interest. So that you stand to gain absolutely NOTHING in the whole transaction, except the satisfaction that by helping me to achieve my ambition you are indirectly or even directly helping Nigeria or even Africa.

This risk becomes greater when it is borne in mind that I might die in the course of my studies or immediately after, so that, since I have no security or surety, you stand the chance of losing not only the money but also the satisfaction which you may cherish that you are contributing to the uplift of Africa. It is indeed a great risk; the greatest any man ever embarks upon.

But, this is a big BUT, if I live, as I have no doubt I will do, you will not only get your money back in full, but you will, to the end of your days, have cause to rejoice that you have done one of the most outstanding and most philanthropic acts any human being ever does. Among other things, I shall make excellent use of the money while in England by breaking records in my examination. On my return to Nigeria, I shall strive to be one of the foremost advocates, politicians and writers in West Africa, and while I do all these, I shall make it a point not only to pay your money back in full, but also to repay your kindness and generosity towards me in every way I can.

All the same, it is a big risk! So, Sir, I like you to think seriously about it, and see if you can take it in the interest of a young man who has brain, industry and determination to back his ambition, but lacks the money. I know we have never been close friends, but I have a shrewd idea that you may take the risk and help me.

On this assumption, therefore, I proceed to the next and last stage of this letter.

I shall not require the whole £1,400 in a lump sum. To start with, you will help me pay a sum of £208-13s-3d to the Inner Temple. I have already received an application form from this Inn of Court; and from the details forwarded, I gather that the sum of £208-13s-3d will cover all the cost of training as a barrister, examination fees excluded.

When I am ready to sail, you will advance me a sum of £100 to cover passage, provision for my family and any other incidental expenses (NOTE: If I got torpedoed on the way, you would certainly lose this £100 but you will recover the £208-13s-3d).

At the same time you will remit to a London Bank the sum of £491-6s-9d. It is out of this amount that I shall pay the university fees for LL.B course and for special courses in political science and journalism, when I land in England. This is to say, the initial advance will total £800.

At the end of the first year, provided I make satisfactory progress in my studies, you will give instruction to the bank to honour all cheques from me drawn on this account. There will be an arrangement to be signed by me on my return.

On my return, I shall require TWO years within which to establish a solid practice and build a good reputation. After these two years, I should commence to pay at least £200 per annum either in monthly, quarterly or annual payments. So that in seven years after the first two years, I should pay back the whole sum of £1,400. That will be TWELVE YEARS from the time you help me to pay this in April or so this year, then I should be due to pay the whole of £1,400 by April 1955.

Now, as you yourself will see, this is the farthest limit within which I can pay the money. It may be possible for me to pay the money within THREE to FIVE years of my return. As a matter of fact, the sooner I pay it off, the better. But it is much better to be on the safe side in a matter like this. It is no making promises now which will be difficult to fulfil in future. On the contrary it is better to mention a period of twelve years and pay within SIX or EIGHT years than to mention FIVE YEARS and fail to pay within TEN years. Personally, I prefer that I should fail to get the loan under theses unattractive but sure conditions, rather than succeed in getting it under attractive but precarious conditions.

Now, this is all I have to say. You have my request before you, and the reason why i make the request. It is left for you to decide whether it is worthwhile to take the risk of helping me in the manner outlined above or not.

If you do me the great favour, not only myself and all that are mine, but also God and Africa will be grateful, I shall have no cause whatsoever to grumble or to blame you, FOR THE RISK IS GREAT.

Since this is a very selfish request, I enclosed herewith a self addressed stamped envelope to be sent under a registered post.

Obafemi Awolowo.

Merciful God!

* Chief Odutola refused him of the Loan, Awo could not travel that year. He buckle up his lace and by August 14, 1944 (one year later) he travelled to England, became a Barrister at law and was called to the Bar in November 1946. Amazingly, by 1954 (A year to the time he promised to pay Chief Odutola the Loan ) , Chief Awolowo was already a Premier in the Defunct Western Region and already giving out Scholarship to over 200 undergraduates (First of its kind in Africa).

I find it a great pleasure, to replicate the full version of the Awoistic dedicatory letter, following a stiff request by friends that the Nigerian Youths need to see and digest
*copied*

This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples, no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple, the philosophy is kindness.

THE DEVIL'S MISTRESS
FINALE
The grand villa, once a gilded cage echoing with tension and Amanda’s venomous whispers, had transformed into a sanctuary bathed in golden light and the vibrant hum of genuine joy. The "Welcome Home" party wasn’t just for Jessica; it was a rebirth for the entire household. Paper lanterns, reminiscent of the secret baby shower but multiplied a hundredfold, adorned every archway and balcony, casting a warm, celebratory glow. Lush floral arrangements overflowing with crimson hibiscus, golden birds of paradise, and fragrant white jasmine replaced the sterile opulence. The air thrummed with the infectious rhythms of highlife music and the laughter of Scar’s men – no longer just guards, but an extended family sharing in their leader’s profound relief and happiness.
Jessica stood near the sweeping staircase, a vision in flowing ivory silk. The lingering shadows of fear and hardship were gone, replaced by a radiant serenity that seemed to emanate from her very core. She watched Scar move through the crowd, his usual intimidating presence softened into an almost boyish delight. He greeted his men with firm handshakes and claps on the back, his deep laughter ringing out freely, a sound many hadn’t heard in years. His eyes, however, constantly sought hers, anchoring himself in her presence. Every few minutes, he would weave his way back to her, his hand finding the small of her back, his lips brushing her temple, a silent, possessive reassurance. "Mine. Safe. Home."
Amidst the joyful chaos, Scar spotted Ghost standing near the open terrace doors, a quiet sentinel observing the celebration. Chioma was beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. Scar excused himself from a conversation and walked towards them, his expression turning solemn. The music seemed to fade slightly as he approached.
"Ghost," Scar said, his voice low and thick with emotion. He stopped before the man who had been a shadow, a weapon, and ultimately, a savior.
Ghost straightened, his usual impassive mask in place, but his eyes held a flicker of wariness.
Scar didn’t offer a handshake. Instead, he placed both hands firmly on Ghost’s shoulders, a gesture of profound respect and intimacy reserved for the closest of brothers-in-arms. He looked directly into Ghost’s eyes, his own dark gaze unwavering and sincere.
"Words are cheap," Scar began, his voice rough. "But they are all I have right now to express what can never truly be repaid." He paused, the weight of the past months heavy in the silence. "You saved her life. You saved *my son’s* life. When I was blind with rage, walking in darkness, you were the one who held the light. You saw the truth when I refused to. You risked everything – your position, your life, my wrath – to protect Jessica when I couldn’t, when I *failed* her." Scar’s voice cracked slightly. "You brought her back. You kept her safe. You gave me back…" He glanced towards Jessica, his eyes softening, "...everything."
He squeezed Ghost’s shoulders. "My gratitude isn't just for tonight. It’s a debt etched into my bones. You have my loyalty, Ghost, not as an employer, but as a brother. Now and always. Whatever you need, whenever you need it – it’s yours. Without question." He finally released him, stepping back slightly, but the intensity of his gaze remained. "Thank you. For Jessica. For my son. For my life."
Ghost, a man of few words, swallowed hard. The stoic mask fractured, revealing a depth of emotion rarely seen. He gave a single, sharp nod, his voice gruff when he finally spoke. "Just bringing you home to what matters, Boss. To *who* matters." He glanced at Chioma, a softness touching his eyes. "We did it together."
Chioma beamed, tears glistening. Scar nodded, the profound understanding passing between them. He clasped Ghost’s hand firmly this time. "Together," he echoed. The moment solidified a bond forged in fire, stronger than any empire.
Weeks later, the villa was hushed, filled with a different kind of anticipation – sacred and primal. Jessica labored not in a sterile hospital, but in the sun-drenched master suite Scar had transformed into a birthing sanctuary. Chioma, now officially Jessica’s sister and confidante, was her unwavering pillar, alongside a trusted midwife. Scar paced the adjoining sitting room like the lion he was, his usual composure shattered. Every muffled cry from Jessica sent a jolt of terror and helplessness through him. He heard William’s low murmur trying to offer reassurance, but the powerful kingpin was reduced to a bundle of raw nerves, praying to deities he’d long ignored.
Then, cutting through the tense silence, came a new sound – a strong, indignant wail. A sound that stopped Scar’s heart before setting it pounding with a frantic, overwhelming joy. The door opened. Chioma emerged, her face radiant, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Boss…" she whispered, her voice thick. "Come meet your son."
Scar moved as if in a dream, pushing past her into the room. The scent of blood and effort hung in the air, but it was eclipsed by something purer, sweeter. Jessica lay propped on pillows, exhausted but glowing, her face a picture of awestruck love. And in her arms, swaddled in soft white linen, was a tiny, perfect human being. A shock of dark hair, a button nose, and eyes screwed shut as he voiced his displeasure at the bright new world.
Scar approached slowly, his massive frame seeming too large, too clumsy for this fragile miracle. He sank to his knees beside the bed, his eyes fixed on the tiny face. Jessica smiled weakly, shifting slightly. "Sebastian… meet your son. Adebayo Sebastian Scar."
Tentatively, reverently, Scar reached out. His large, scarred hand, capable of such violence, trembled as he gently traced the curve of his son’s impossibly soft cheek. The baby’s cries subsided slightly, tiny fingers unfurling. As Scar’s fingertip brushed that miniature hand, the tiny fingers instinctively curled around it with surprising strength.
The dam broke. A single tear, then another, escaped Scar’s tightly shut eyes, tracing a path down his scarred cheek. A sob, raw and unexpected, ripped from his chest. He bowed his head, his forehead resting gently against Jessica’s arm beside the baby, his shoulders shaking silently. The fear, the rage, the betrayal, the relentless pursuit of power – it all dissolved in the face of this profound, terrifying love. He wept for the man he’d been, for the pain inflicted, for the miracle granted.
"He’s perfect," he choked out, lifting his tear-streaked face to look at Jessica, his eyes blazing with a love so fierce it stole her breath. He placed his other hand over hers where it cradled the baby’s head. "Both of you. My world." He leaned down, pressing the most tender kiss first on Jessica’s sweaty forehead, then on the downy head of his son. "I swear on my life," he whispered, his voice thick with conviction, his gaze locked on the tiny face, "I will protect you. Both of you. With every breath, every drop of blood. Nothing will ever harm you again. You are my heart. My sanctuary. My *everything*." The Lion of Lagos had found his true purpose, not in territory or fear, but in the fierce, unwavering protection of his pride
Four months later, Adebayo was a thriving bundle of energy, his dark eyes already holding a disconcerting echo of his father’s intensity, often softened by a gummy smile that could melt stone. Life settled into a blissful rhythm. Scar embraced fatherhood with a fierce, almost comical devotion, often found pacing the nursery at 3 AM with Adebayo asleep on his broad chest, or conducting business meetings via video call with the baby propped in a sling.
One quiet afternoon, Jessica found Scar in his study, engrossed in building a ridiculously complex block tower for Adebayo, who watched with rapt fascination. Sunlight streamed through the windows. Jessica sat beside him on the plush rug, leaning her head against his shoulder. "He’s getting so strong," she murmured, watching their son grab a block.
"He’s a Scar," Scar rumbled proudly, carefully adding another block. "Strength is in the blood."
Jessica took a deep breath, a secret smile playing on her lips. "Speaking of strength… and blood…" She reached into the pocket of her flowing dress and pulled out a small, familiar plastic stick. She placed it gently on the carpet beside the tower.
Scar froze, his hand hovering over the next block. His gaze snapped from the test to Jessica’s face, then back to the test. Two clear pink lines. His breath hitched. Understanding dawned, slow and then blindingly bright. He dropped the block, ignoring Adebayo’s startled gurgle. He turned fully to Jessica, his eyes wide, searching hers.
"Jessica?" His voice was barely a whisper, filled with disbelief and burgeoning hope.
She nodded, her smile widening, tears sparkling in her eyes. "Another little lion cub. Or maybe a lioness this time. Due in about seven months."
A roar of pure, unadulterated joy erupted from Scar, startling Adebayo, who blinked and then let out a delighted squeal. Scar swept Jessica into his arms, lifting her off the rug, spinning her gently despite her laughing protests. He buried his face in her neck, his laughter mingling with tears of profound gratitude. "Another chance," he breathed against her skin, setting her down but holding her close. "Another miracle. You give me everything, my lioness. Everything."
He kissed her then, deep and slow, pouring all his love, his relief, his awe into the touch. Later that night, after Adebayo was asleep, their reunion was a slow, tender exploration. It wasn't the frantic claiming of the past, nor the desperate passion after Amanda’s exposure. It was a celebration of life, of their enduring bond, of the future stretching bright before them. He worshipped her body, the subtle new curve taking shape beneath his hands, whispering promises against her skin, their movements a beautiful, synchronized dance of love and creation.
Adebayo was six months old, a sturdy, curious baby with his father’s intense gaze and his mother’s gentle smile, when Jessica walked down the aisle. Not in a cathedral, but at dawn on the private, white-sand beach of a secluded Seychelles island. The guests were few but deeply cherished: Her parents, beaming with pride and tearful joy; Chioma and Ghost, holding hands; William, Kola, Musa, and a handful of Scar’s most trusted men, now truly family.
Jessica wore not a traditional white gown, but a stunning creation of layered, whisper-thin ivory silk that flowed like water around her, subtly cinched beneath her breasts to accommodate the gentle swell of her second pregnancy. Her hair was woven with fragrant frangipani blossoms. She carried a simple bouquet of tropical white orchids.
Scar waited for her beneath a canopy woven with vibrant bougainvillea and seashells, barefoot in the sand, wearing crisp white linen trousers and an open-necked ivory shirt. He held Adebayo, dressed in a tiny linen suit, who stared wide-eyed at the ocean. But as Jessica approached, guided by her father, Scar’s gaze locked onto hers. The raw love, the fierce protectiveness, the awe he’d felt holding his son for the first time – it all shone in his eyes, amplified a thousandfold. Tears tracked freely down his face as she reached him.
The ceremony was simple, profound. They spoke vows not written by anyone else, but forged in the fires they’d walked through together. Jessica promised her strength, her unwavering love, and the sanctuary of her heart. Scar vowed his protection, his absolute fidelity, and his endless gratitude for the family she’d given him. He included Adebayo in his vows, promising to be his guide, and placed a gentle hand on Jessica’s belly, whispering a promise to the child yet to come. When they kissed, the rising sun painted them in gold, the turquoise waves their witness.
Their honeymoon wasn't just a vacation; it was a month-long immersion in peace, connection, and the simple joy of being a family. They spent mornings building sandcastles with a delighted Adebayo, afternoons napping in hammocks strung between palm trees, Scar’s hand resting possessively on Jessica’s growing bump. Evenings were spent sharing fresh seafood under the stars, Adebayo asleep in a sling against Scar’s chest, Jessica leaning against his shoulder. They talked – truly talked – about their fears, their hopes, their dreams for their children. They swam in crystal-clear lagoons, explored vibrant coral reefs, and simply existed in a bubble of love, far removed from the shadows of Lagos.
One moonlit night, after settling Adebayo in the villa’s nursery, Scar led Jessica back to the beach. He spread a blanket on the sand, the only sound the gentle sigh of the waves. He pulled her down beside him, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his hands cradling her belly. He rested his chin on her shoulder, looking out at the vast, star-strewn ocean.
"From the slums of Lagos," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble against her ear, "to the devil’s mistress… to my wife. My queen. The mother of my children." He kissed her temple. "My Jessica. My sanctuary."
Jessica leaned back into his embrace, covering his hands with hers on her belly, feeling the tiny flutter within. She looked up at the endless sky, then back at the sleeping villa where their son dreamed. "Our sanctuary, Sebastian," she whispered, turning her head to capture his lips in a tender kiss under the watchful moon. "Built together. Forged in fire. Found in love."
The Lion had found his true kingdom – not in fear or territory, but in the boundless, fiercely protected love of his lioness and their cubs. The Devil’s Mistress had become the Queen of his heart, and their story, scarred but unbreakable, was only just beginning. The future stretched before them, bright as the dawn over the Indian Ocean, filled with the promise of peace, family, and the enduring strength of a love that had conquered hell itself.
THE END

*THE RESTORER'S DAILY GUIDE*

DATE: THURSDAY 20TH JUNE 2025

THEME: *WORTHLESS ADDICTIONS*

MEMORIZE
Luke 4:4
And Jesus answered him, saying, It is written, That man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God.

READ
Luke 4:1-15
And Jesus, being full of the Holy Ghost, returned from Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness,
Being forty days tempted of the devil. And in those days, he did eat nothing: and when they were ended, he afterward hungered.
And the devil said unto him, If thou be the Son of God, command this stone that it be made bread.
And Jesus answered him, saying, It is written, That man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God.
And the devil, taking him up into an high mountain, shewed unto him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time.
And the devil said unto him, All this power will I give thee, and the glory of them: for that is delivered unto me; and to whomsoever I will I give it.
If thou therefore wilt worship me, all shall be thine.
And Jesus answered and said unto him, Get thee behind me, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.
And he brought him to Jerusalem, and set him on a pinnacle of the temple, and said unto him, If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down from hence:
For it is written, He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee:
And in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone.
And Jesus answering said unto him, It is said, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.
And when the devil had ended all the temptation, he departed from him for a season.
And Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit into Galilee: and there went out a fame of him through all the region round about.
And he taught in their synagogues, being glorified of all.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY
*Behind every addictions are evil spirits sent by Satan to destroy human lives systematically.*

MESSAGE
Today's passage is often used to talk about the temptations and trials of our Lord in the wilderness. But a quick flip reveals Satan's subtle targets behind all his attractive offers...

One of Satan's hidden targets using temptations is to introduce his targeted victims into a life of worthless addictions. And thereafter keep them in the bondage that will either make them to function below their destiny benchmark or weaken their souls with the purpose of rendering them unfit for their assignments in life; and in worse case scenario, lead them to believe that they need stuffs to survive until they are eventually destroyed.

Addictions are not just mere habits that people indulge themselves in. *Behind every addictions are evil spirits sent by Satan to destroy human lives strategically and systematically by keeping them in a perpetual bondage.*

These evil spirits get into their gullible victims through seemingly harmless things like foods and drinks, including other legitimate rights.

There are people who are addicted to simple things like coffee. They are strangely addicted to an early morning cup of coffee until it becomes a traditional bondage.

In today's text, the Lord Jesus Christ told Satan, the tempter that man was not created to live by bread alone.

That means man was not to live a life that is dependent solely on bread.

There are people who are addicted to food and cannot stay off of food.

The only benefit of food is to supply the strength required to pursue purpose. Sadly, many people live to eat, instead of eating to live.

Satan wants us to be distracted from pursuing purpose to seeking bodily pleasures.

*To live only for bread is a worthless addictive living, but when your life is powered by a definite word from God, then you become a person of rich economy to heaven on earth.*

Bread is generically and allegorically used to illustrate everything that men rely upon to live.

Others are addicted to alcohol. Alcohol is a highly demonic substance; it is a portal for demons to enter the body of those who indulge themselves with it. Alcohol actually means a "body eating spirit;" that is why it is called "spirit."

According to the scriptures, it bites its victims.
Proverbs 23:31-32 "Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his colour in the cup, when it moveth itself aright.
At the last, it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder."

Beloved, avoid worthless addictions today and prioritise your life and destiny around God and His purpose for your life.

Never allow anything to gain control over your life, but rather exercise self-control over everything.

Do not lose self-control to anything except the LORD through the Holy Spirit.

Shalom.

ACTION STEPS
1. Prayerfully meditate on today's devotional guide again.
2. Submit your life deliberately to the Holy Spirit for absolute control.
3. Be determined to avoid every worthless addiction in your life.

REMEMBER
*Behind every addictions are evil spirits sent by Satan to destroy human lives systematically.*

PRAYERS
Dear heavenly Father, Thank you for today's devotional guide. I receive grace to live in absolute submission to your Holy Spirit according to the scriptures in truth and in spirit in Jesus name. Amen.

AUTHOR: JEDIDIAH DAVID

DAILY READING
Daniel 1-2; Proverbs 20-23; Luke 15-16;

HYMN
1
Take my life, and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee;
Take my moments and my days,
Let them flow in ceaseless praise.

2
Take my hands, and let them move
At the impulse of Thy love;
Take my feet, and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee.

3
Take my voice, and let me sing
Always, only, for my King;
Take my lips, and let them be
Filled with messages from Thee.

4
Take my silver and my gold;
Not a mite would I withhold:
Take my intellect, and use
Every power as Thou shalt choose.

5
Take my will, and make it Thine;
It shall be no longer mine:
Take my heart—it is Thine own,
It shall be Thy royal throne.

6
Take my love: my Lord, I pour
At Thy feet its treasure store:
Take myself; and I will be
Ever, only, all for Thee.

PLEASE SHARE