In 2017, at ACI camp, I stood nervously on stage sharing my testimony, unaware that someone in the crowd was listening closely. I wasn’t trying to be seen—but somehow, I was. Later, a stranger gently called my name: “Hi, Akeliah.” I smiled, puzzled, not knowing that moment would stay with us both. Life moved on, but small divine appointments kept connecting our paths—slow drives, short conversations, long silences. I didn’t know what God was weaving until years later, when a familiar voice returned—not just to check in, but to share his heart. And this time, I saw him too.

The first time I heard her name, it echoed in my spirit. Akeliah—humble, graceful, unforgettable. From the moment she testified at ACI, I knew she was different. I said her name before I truly knew her, and from then on, I waited for any chance to see her again. Years passed. We spoke now and then, but I couldn’t let go—God wouldn’t let me. In 2019, I dreamed of marrying her. In 2023, I finally told her again what I’d known all along: she was the one. And when she saw me with the same clarity, everything changed.