{"id":3392,"date":"2025-08-11T12:24:08","date_gmt":"2025-08-11T12:24:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/?p=3392"},"modified":"2025-08-11T12:24:14","modified_gmt":"2025-08-11T12:24:14","slug":"bridge-of-redemption-book-by-precious-owoko","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/bridge-of-redemption-book-by-precious-owoko\/","title":{"rendered":"Bridge of Redemption book by Precious Owoko."},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p>Sunlight poured through the stained-glass windows, spilling warm colors across the quiet church. Meanwhile, the soft creak of wooden pews echoed faintly as people shifted in their seats. In the front row, Daniel knelt, his head low and his fingers locked so tightly that his hands ached. For years, he had carried the heavy weight of his mistakes. He had walked away from people who loved him, made choices he could not undo, and shut God out completely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Just then, a warm hand rested on his shoulder. When he looked up, he saw Pastor Mark, his calm eyes full of kindness.<br>\u201cDaniel,\u201d the pastor said gently, \u201ccan we talk for a moment?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Soon after, they moved into Pastor Mark\u2019s small office. The smell of coffee lingered in the air, while the walls stood lined with old books and family photos. Daniel sat down, his shoulders tense and his eyes fixed on the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI believe people can change,\u201d Pastor Mark began. \u201cI\u2019ve seen it happen over and over. You still have a chance to turn things around.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Daniel shook his head slowly. \u201cI\u2019ve hurt too many people. I\u2019ve burned every bridge. I don\u2019t know if I even deserve forgiveness.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cGrace isn\u2019t about deserving,\u201d Pastor Mark replied. \u201cIt\u2019s about accepting it. But you\u2019ll also need to face those you\u2019ve hurt and start making things right. That\u2019s where healing begins.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Although Daniel didn\u2019t answer right away, he let the words settle deep inside. He knew the pastor was right, yet fear still gripped him. Even so, for the first time in years, he felt a flicker of hope.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A few days later, Daniel stood outside his mother\u2019s home. He hesitated before knocking, his heart pounding hard in his chest. When the door opened, his mother appeared. She looked older her hair now threaded with gray but her eyes still carried the same gentle warmth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cDaniel? Is that you?\u201d she asked in disbelief.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Tears stung his eyes. \u201cIt\u2019s me, Mom. I\u2019m so sorry for the pain I caused. Can you forgive me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>For a moment, she simply studied his face. Then, stepping forward, she took his hand. \u201cIt will take time,\u201d she said softly, \u201cbut I\u2019ve missed you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>They hugged, and Daniel felt part of the wall between them begin to crumble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Soon afterward, he faced an even harder step meeting Jason, his best friend from childhood. They sat across from each other in a quiet caf\u00e9, the air heavy with unspoken words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou hurt me deeply,\u201d Jason said, looking him in the eye. \u201cBut\u2026 I believe people can change. If you\u2019re serious about making things right, we can try to rebuild our friendship.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI am serious,\u201d Daniel replied without hesitation. \u201cI\u2019ll do whatever it takes, even if it takes years.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>From that day forward, Daniel worked to prove it. He called when he said he would, showed up when needed, and offered help without being asked. Gradually, Jason\u2019s trust began to return.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As months passed, Daniel also started volunteering at the local community center. At first, he saw it as a way to make up for his past. However, the more he served meals to the homeless and listened to their stories, the more he understood that it wasn\u2019t about paying for mistakes it was about loving people here and now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Eventually, one Sunday morning, Pastor Mark invited him to speak at church. Standing before the congregation, Daniel\u2019s hands trembled, yet his voice grew stronger with each word.<br>\u201cGod\u2019s grace has rebuilt parts of my life I thought were gone forever,\u201d he said. \u201cIf He can change my story, He can change yours.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The congregation rose to their feet, clapping not for him, but for the God who had carried him this far.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That evening, Daniel walked to the old bridge at the edge of town. Years ago, he had stood there at his lowest point, ready to give up. Now, the sunset painted the sky in gold and crimson, and the cool air carried a sense of promise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The bridge no longer marked an ending. Instead, it spoke of new beginnings of the place between who he had been and who he was becoming. With a deep breath, Daniel stepped forward. He had crossed the bridge of redemption, and on the other side, hope was waiting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=S7Ez5xl2vw0\">(1) THE DECISIONS WE MAKE AFFECTS US SPOKEN WORD BY WALKING SHADOW POETRY | POEM | POETESS &#8211; YouTube<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/faith-that-fought-back-ruths-rise-in-unbroken\/\">BOOK TITLE: THE UNBROKEN BY PRECIOUS OWOKO<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Sunlight poured through the stained-glass windows, spilling warm colors across the quiet church. Meanwhile, the soft creak of wooden pews echoed faintly as people shifted in their seats. In the front row, Daniel knelt, his head low and his fingers locked so tightly that his hands ached. For years, he had carried the heavy weight [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3393,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[121,97,25,98,1],"tags":[35,49,34,67,50,61,55,53,22,48],"class_list":["post-3392","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poem","category-poetry","category-solitude","category-storytime","category-uncategorized","tag-poems","tag-poetess","tag-poetry","tag-preciousowoko","tag-spokenword","tag-spokenwords","tag-stories","tag-story","tag-walkingshadowpoetry","tag-walkingshadowpoetrykenya"],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/08\/IMG_20220207_231440.jpg?fit=639%2C958&ssl=1","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":2582,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/the-rise-and-the-fall-by-walking-shadow-poetry\/","url_meta":{"origin":3392,"position":0},"title":"&#8220;The Rise and the Fall&#8221; by walking shadow poetry.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"September 3, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"He came from a place where the dust danced with the wind,A small house on the edge of the land,Where meals were scarce, but hope was plenty,He dreamed of a life where he\u2019d have more than enough. He worked through the nights, while others slept,Pushed through the days, with sweat\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;POETRY&quot;","block_context":{"text":"POETRY","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/poetry\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"man holding brown rope","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/09\/pexels-photo-1458696.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/09\/pexels-photo-1458696.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/09\/pexels-photo-1458696.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/09\/pexels-photo-1458696.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/09\/pexels-photo-1458696.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2255,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/alex-2\/","url_meta":{"origin":3392,"position":1},"title":"ALEX.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"June 5, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Once upon a time, in a small village, there lived a boy named Alex. He was kind-hearted and had a strong desire to do what was right. However, Alex faced a challenge. He found himself struggling with overwhelming feelings of attraction and temptation towards others. He realized that he had\u2026","rel":"","context":"In \"spokenword\"","block_context":{"text":"spokenword","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/WalkingShadowPoetryKenya\/spokenword\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"young boy drawing on sand","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-8576301.jpeg?fit=1200%2C801&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-8576301.jpeg?fit=1200%2C801&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-8576301.jpeg?fit=1200%2C801&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-8576301.jpeg?fit=1200%2C801&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-8576301.jpeg?fit=1200%2C801&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2585,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/the-mighty-fall-by-walking-shadow-poetry\/","url_meta":{"origin":3392,"position":2},"title":"The mighty Fall by walking shadow poetry.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"September 3, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"From a small, dusty place where dreams felt far,He rose from the ground, reaching for a star,Hunger was his friend, but hope held him tight,He worked through the night, chasing a light. He worked and he fought, when others would rest,He dreamed of a future, of having the best,He climbed\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;POETRY&quot;","block_context":{"text":"POETRY","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/poetry\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"a cowboy falling on brown sand","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/09\/pexels-photo-12950516.jpeg?fit=1200%2C801&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/09\/pexels-photo-12950516.jpeg?fit=1200%2C801&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/09\/pexels-photo-12950516.jpeg?fit=1200%2C801&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/09\/pexels-photo-12950516.jpeg?fit=1200%2C801&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/09\/pexels-photo-12950516.jpeg?fit=1200%2C801&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2347,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/embracing-myself\/","url_meta":{"origin":3392,"position":3},"title":"Embracing Myself","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"June 18, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Jake sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his reflection in the mirror across the room. He had always struggled with his weight, and it seemed like the extra pounds wouldn't go away no matter what he did. He tried every diet, and exercise routine, and even joined\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;storytime&quot;","block_context":{"text":"storytime","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/storytime\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"a man holding his tummy","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-11911053.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-11911053.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-11911053.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-11911053.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-11911053.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2361,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/be-careful-what-you-wish-for\/","url_meta":{"origin":3392,"position":4},"title":"Be Careful What You Wish For.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"June 19, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"In a small, peaceful village lived a boy named Tom. Tom was known for his adventurous spirit and wild imagination. He loved to dream about all the amazing things he could do and have. One day, while sitting by the river, he overheard an old man talking to a group\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;storytime&quot;","block_context":{"text":"storytime","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/storytime\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"boy with wooden fishing rod standing by river","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-20776455.jpeg?fit=1200%2C798&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-20776455.jpeg?fit=1200%2C798&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-20776455.jpeg?fit=1200%2C798&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-20776455.jpeg?fit=1200%2C798&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-20776455.jpeg?fit=1200%2C798&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2267,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/timmy-and-sweets\/","url_meta":{"origin":3392,"position":5},"title":"TIMMY and Sweets.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"June 6, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Once upon a time, there was a young boy named Timmy who loved sweets. His favorite treat was a delicious chocolate bar. Every day, Timmy's mother would give him one small piece of chocolate as a special reward for completing his chores and being well-behaved. One sunny afternoon, Timmy's mother\u2026","rel":"","context":"In \"poetry\"","block_context":{"text":"poetry","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/WalkingShadowPoetryKenya\/poetry\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"person in gray pullover hoodie photography","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-572463.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-572463.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-572463.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-572463.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-572463.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]}],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3392","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3392"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3392\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3394,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3392\/revisions\/3394"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3393"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3392"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3392"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3392"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}