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Alberta’s life had always been marked by simplicity. She was born in a quiet village where the sound of church bells echoed louder than the noise of the marketplace. Her mother, a devoted believer, taught her to fear God above everything else. Growing up, she had no father figure to guide her, so she leaned heavily on the idea of God as Father.
When Alberta turned eighteen, she moved to the city with dreams of higher education and a deeper relationship with God. The city was alive—flashing lights, busy markets, and countless churches competing for attention. Each banner promised miracles, breakthroughs, and prosperity. She often whispered to herself, “If only I can find the right place, my destiny will be secure.”
Her hunger for God made her attend almost every revival meeting she heard about. She didn’t care about the long hours, the noise, or the endless offerings. What she wanted was real spiritual direction—a shepherd who could guide her soul.
One evening, after a powerful crusade, she stumbled into a church that felt different. The worship was electrifying, the prayers fiery, and the preacher’s voice thundered with authority. People wept, shouted, and even fell to the ground as he laid hands on them. Alberta sat quietly, her heart beating fast. “Maybe this is the place,” she thought.
That night marked the beginning of her connection with the man she would soon call her spiritual father.
But Alberta had no idea—behind the pulpit, behind the smile, and behind the “anointing”—was a trap carefully waiting for her.
The following Sunday, Alberta returned to the same church. She found herself lost in the rhythm of worship, her voice joining hundreds of others crying out to God. The pastor stepped onto the pulpit, dressed immaculately in a white suit, his Bible tucked under his arm. His presence commanded attention.
His sermon was fiery yet smooth. He spoke about destiny, enemies of progress, and the need for a covering. “Without a spiritual father,” he declared, “you will walk like an orphan in the spirit realm.” The congregation shouted “Amen!” and clapped with conviction.
Alberta’s heart leaped at those words. She had grown up without a father; now someone was speaking directly to her wound. She whispered silently, “Maybe God led me here so I can finally be covered.”
After service, she lingered around as others rushed to greet the pastor. He noticed her standing shyly at the corner. With a gentle smile, he stretched his hand toward her. “Daughter, the Spirit of the Lord highlighted you to me,” he said in a commanding yet reassuring tone. “You carry greatness, but you need guidance. I will be your spiritual father.”
Alberta’s eyes filled with tears. For the first time, she felt seen, chosen, and loved. She knelt instinctively, and he placed his hand on her head. The people around looked on with admiration, whispering, “She is blessed to be chosen.”
Her heart swelled with joy. To her, this was the answer to years of prayers for direction. She had finally found a shepherd, a father figure, and a mentor all in one.
But what Alberta didn’t know was that the words spoken over her life were not all from God. A silent agenda had begun to unfold—one that would shake her faith to its core.
From that day onward, Alberta became known in the church as “Papa’s daughter.” The title gave her a strange sense of honor. The way the other members looked at her changed. They respected her, believing she had received a special place in the man of God’s heart.
Every Sunday, she sat in the front row, listening eagerly, taking notes as if each word were a direct message from heaven. The pastor often used her as an example in his sermons. “Look at this young woman,” he would say, “God will raise her because she has submitted to spiritual authority.” Alberta glowed under the attention, her heart swelling with gratitude.
One evening after midweek service, the pastor approached her again. “Daughter, the Spirit is telling me you must come for private prayers. There are things God wants to reveal to you, but such mysteries cannot be shared publicly. Set aside some time this week to come to my office.”
Alberta hesitated. The thought of being alone with him in his office made her nervous. Yet the way he spoke—so confident, so spiritual—made her feel guilty for even questioning it. “Yes, Papa,” she replied softly.
Walking home that night, Alberta’s mind raced. What mysteries could he mean? Could God really have something special in store for me? She clutched her Bible tightly, convincing herself it was a divine opportunity.
That night, she prayed long and hard. “Lord, thank You for giving me a spiritual father. May I never miss Your plan for my life.” She fell asleep with a smile on her face, unaware of the storm about to be unleashed.
The appointment was set. Alberta was about to step into an office that would change the course of her life forever.
The day of the appointment arrived. Alberta dressed modestly but carefully, choosing her neatest outfit. Her heart pounded with nervous excitement as she made her way to the church office. She had never been invited to a pastor’s office before, and to her, this felt like a rare privilege.
When she entered, the pastor was already seated behind a polished wooden desk. The room smelled of expensive perfume and anointing oil. Bible verses were framed on the wall, giving the space an air of holiness. “Welcome, my daughter,” he said warmly, motioning for her to sit. “Today, your journey into deeper mysteries begins.”
He spoke for several minutes about spiritual battles, unseen enemies, and the importance of obedience to spiritual authority. His voice was calm but carried a weight that made Alberta hang on every word. She nodded eagerly, feeling honored to receive such attention.
Then, lowering his tone, he leaned closer. “The Spirit has revealed to me that your destiny is great, but there are evil forces contending with you. Unless we deal with them, you will never rise.”
Alberta’s eyes widened. “What must I do, Papa?” she asked, her voice trembling with both fear and hope.
He gave her a long, piercing look, then smiled faintly. “There are special prayers I must conduct for you—prayers that require sacrifice, privacy, and complete trust. Are you ready to obey whatever instructions I give?”
Her heart pounded harder. She thought of her mother’s teachings, her own prayers, and the man before her. Surely, he knew more about God than she did. Surely, this was divine direction.
“Yes, Papa,” she whispered.
The pastor leaned back in his chair, satisfied. “Good. Then your destiny is about to change forever.”