16/01/2026
"I WANT YOU TO WIN HER BACK."
That's what the Holy Spirit said to me—standing in his driveway, clear as day.
I had just pulled up for our weekly editing session. He produced our television broadcast from equipment set up in his garage. This had become our rhythm.
But that Thursday, as I stepped out of my car, I heard the Lord with the most audible clarity I've ever experienced:
"I want you to win her back."
Excuse me? You want WHAT?
I stood there in disbelief, looked toward heaven and said, "Okay Lord… but You will have to open the door."
If you've followed this series, you know:
Part 1—he came to the altar confessing he wanted to harm his wife.
Part 2—we brought her into ministry, it worked for a season, then it collapsed. She left after a confrontation.
And he said something I warned him about:
"If I have to choose between my wife and the church, I choose the church."
I told him, "Be careful with your words. One day, you may have to eat them."
After she left, he was free.
Free to serve without sabotage.
Free to grow without constant tension.
The ministry expanded. We launched a television broadcast. I placed him in charge. I came to his house weekly to edit.
And every time, she made herself invisible—until that Thursday.
Ten minutes into editing, I stood to look at a screen. I heard the door open upstairs.
It was her.
She startled when she saw me. "Oh! Hey Bishop."
I greeted her warmly. "We miss you."
She rolled her eyes, said what she needed to her husband, and disappeared.
But the door had opened.
The next visit the Lord said, "I'm going to open it again—and you must walk in it."
This time she came down, and I engaged her.
We didn't talk church.
We didn't talk scripture.
We talked about her.
Leadership Insight:
Influence is built on understanding, not pressure.
If you want to win someone over, you must first understand what matters to them—their interests, boundaries, fears, motivations, and pain points. Trust is built when people feel seen, not managed.
I shaped the conversation around what mattered to her. I didn't enjoy it. But I obeyed God.
The following week, she was already downstairs when I arrived. We talked for three hours. Laughed. Connected.
That Sunday, she came back.
She reentered ministry. I restored her to leadership—children's ministry and administration. She was organized, efficient, gifted.
Everything looked healed.
Until it wasn't.
Attendance began to quietly drop.
Calls went unanswered.
Texts ignored.
Cars in driveways—no doors opened.
I couldn't figure out why.
During this season, she began pursuing a city council campaign. I supported her fully.
One Wednesday, after working all morning in my restaurant, I came to Bible study looking rough—flour on my clothes, wrinkled, exhausted. She wanted campaign photos taken with the church.
I said, "Let's do it next week. No one is photo-ready today, including me."
That lit a fire.
Not the kind that motivates.
The kind that burns everything.
That Friday my mother, our Executive Pastor, called. She forwarded me an email.
It was a scathing attack on the leadership—over pictures.
I called her husband. He admitted he knew. When we spoke later, his voice was restrained, guarded. I realized he wasn't free to speak.
Saturday morning he finally was.
He said, "I don't want my family to be a target at the church."
I stopped him.
"This is a drama-free ministry. I don't allow targeting, mistreatment, or silent warfare. You know this. So where is this coming from?"
He had no answer.
I told him, "If you cannot worship peaceably here, find somewhere you can."
Not as a threat—
As protection for the house.
That night, after midnight, my phone rang.
His voice trembled.
"I just wanted you to know… we won't be back."
I prayed with him. I thanked him for his service. I released him with love.
And in that moment, I realized:
The man who once said he would choose the church over his wife—
chose his wife.
As he should have.
But what broke my heart wasn't the decision.
It was the control behind it.
Like a hostage making a ransom call.
THE TRUTH REVEALED
Weeks later, a member who had been absent for months returned.
She stepped into my office and said:
"She had been calling members, speaking against you and the leadership. And because of her position, we believed her."
Proximity gave credibility.
Access created influence.
Silence spread quietly.
And suddenly, the mystery of missing members made sense.
That day I learned:
Even those closest to you require discernment.
WHAT GOD SHOWED ME
I asked the Lord, "Why would You tell me to win her back, knowing the damage?"
He said, "This was never about her. It was about strengthening you."
"Discernment.
Character.
Leadership under pressure."
THE LESSON
God doesn't give virtues—He gives environments that produce them.
You ask for patience—He sends pressure.
You ask for wisdom—He sends complexity.
You ask to be a better leader—He sends difficult people.
Obedience is not measured by outcome.
It is measured by faithfulness.
I obeyed. I'd do it again.
TO THE PASTORS READING THIS:
Not every story ends with a bow on top.
Sometimes you do everything right—and it still falls apart.
That's not failure.
That's ministry.
Keep leading.
Keep loving.
Keep obeying.
And let God handle the rest.
Bishop Aubrey Lee White
