Mr. Pure Intentions

Joshua Kent pulled his suitcase behind him, the wheels rolling over the uneven pavement of Wildwood University's campus. The tree swayed from the humid breeze as the golden evening light glowed against the brick buildings. He paused and took a deep breath, letting the scent of magnolia and fresh grass settle into his chest. "New season," he whispered to himself. "Same God." At 26, Joshua wasn't the typical graduate student. He'd taken time off after college to serve as a youth pastor in his hometown of Autumnvale, Cliffside. God had stirred his heart to pursue a Master's in Theology, he knew it wasn't just for the degree—it was for the people he'd meet, the lives he'd touch, and perhaps something more that he couldn't yet see. He had one duffel slung across his back, Bible in hand. Not just any Bible—it was his grandfather's, marked with years of notes, tears, and truth. It was worn, leather-creased, and holy in the way that only a loved-and-used Bible could be. A tall young man waved from across the quad. "You, Joshua?" "Yeah, that's me." The guy jogged over. "I'm Andre. RA for Bethel Hall. You're in Room 210, right?" Joshua smiled and nodded, extending his hand. Andre grinned and gave him a friendly pat on the back instead. "Man, you're older than I thought. You a TA or something?" "Nah," Joshua chuckled. "Just a student like you. God had me on a different timeline, I guess." Andre raised his brows but didn't ask more. "Well, welcome to Wildwood. Come on, I'll show you around." As they walked, Joshua noticed the students all around them—some sitting in groups, some heading to dorms, others laughing too loudly. There was life here. Vibrant, young, complicated life. He could already feel the pull in the spirit. He could sense the brokenness behind some of the smiles. The weight behind the laughter. These were people hungry for something real, even if they didn't know it yet. Meanwhile, across campus... Bhola Wilson adjusted her glasses and pulled her braids into a tighter bun as she headed toward the student lounge in the Ministry Centre. It was quiet—a rare thing on move-in weekend. But she loved the quiet. She needed it. Her Bible rested open on her lap, highlighter cap between her teeth, as she scribbled in her journal: "Lord, I'm not going to fall for another mask. No more wolves in sheep's clothing. Guard my heart. I'm Yours, not theirs." Her friend Janelle, full of sass and unfiltered honesty, peeked into the room. "Girl, you in here praying again!?" Bhola rolled her eyes playfully. "I like peace." Janelle flopped onto the couch. "Wildwood don't do peace. You know how many dudes here use the saying 'God told me you're my wife' like it's prophetic?" "I'm not looking for anyone." "Exactly. That's why they will look at you harder." Bhola groaned. "I'm serious. I'm staying focused this year." "Focus, huh?,until Mr. Christian Chocolate walks in and starts quoting Romans at you with dimples." "Goodbye," Bhola muttered, tossing a pillow at her. But deep down, she felt the tension. The desire to be loved and the fear of being used. She remembered Marcus—how sweet he was in public, how cruel he became in private. Then Elijah—the worship leader with hands that didn't know boundaries. And Phillip—Mr. Perfect until he ghosted her for someone easier. So no. She wasn't going to be anyone's "God told me." Not this year. Not ever again.... Later that night~~~~ The campus fellowship had its first open prayer and worship night. The auditorium buzzed with students—some sincere, some curious, and some only there to impress someone. Joshua entered and found a seat in the back. He bowed his head as the music started—simple chords, soft melodies, honest voices. A few rows ahead sat Bhola. He noticed her because she wasn't performing. While others raised their hands strategically and looked around, she sat still, eyes closed, lips moving in prayer. Her posture was that of someone who wasn't trying to be seen by people. Joshua didn't know her name. But he prayed for her anyway. "Lord, protect her heart. I don't know her story, but I can tell she's Yours." As the night went on, the speaker, Sister Camila, an older campus minister known for her fire and discernment, stepped up to the mic. "Let me speak a word into this room tonight," she said. "There are some here who came looking to be seen. But God sees you. And for some, He's sending someone—not for romance, but for healing. Don't run from it. And don't rush it." Bhola opened her eyes. The words pierced something inside her. Joshua sat straighter, scribbling the word "healing" in the margin of his Bible. After the service~~~~~ Andre found Joshua after worship. "Yo Joshua, come meet some folks." Joshua followed him to a group of students standing near the lobby. One of them was Janelle, Bhola's friend. She waved, eyeing Joshua with amused curiosity. "And this is Bhola," Janelle said with a smirk, dragging her forward. "She's serious about Jesus and suspicious of men." Bhola's mouth opened slightly. "Janelle!!" Joshua smiled kindly. "Hi, Bhola. I'm Joshua." "Nice to meet you," she said, voice neutral as she took a step back. Joshua picked up on it, but he didn't press. "Well," he said with a warm nod, "God bless you. Maybe I'll see you around." Bhola blinked. No slick line? No flirty Bible verse? She watched him walk away and thought, Maybe he's different. Then she shook her head. "Nope. Not doing this again." Later on~~ Joshua sat by his dorm window that night, watching the stars. He pulled out his grandfather's Bible again. He flipped to Proverbs 18:22. "He who finds a wife finds a good thing and obtains favour from the Lord." He closed it gently. "I'm not looking, Lord," he said aloud. "But if you send her, help me be ready. Not just in intentions... but in actions."