between my last blog post and now, quite a few sundays have gone by. a few very eventful sundays that leaves me wondering if i really should start conforming to reality or keep holding out in my lonesome beliefs. let me start from the weirdest...
usually, i get to church late (intentionally) to avoid the sunday school part of it which i have always found to be needless and downright boring. i honestly havent seen the need to cut my short weekend even shorter by having to wake up that early on a sunday just to hear someone reading a manual out loud and merely repeating what he has said by way of explanation. everyone else in church pays such rapt attention during this said sunday school that i sometimes wonder if they actually understand a single thing or are just hoping the teacher won't point them and ask them a question. so anyways, now you know how i feel about church. honestly, i'm not one to fake love. i either love something or i don't bother with it no matter what anyone else thinks or says. ask my dad...
so yeah, this sunday i got to church and as usual again, i take my seat smack in the middle of the back-most row...i find that preachers are often attracted to those who seat (a) in the front rows; or (b) at the edges, hence my strategic positioning. clearly it was to be just another sunday until it came time for preaching. our usual pastor didn't get up to the podium and instead a visiting pastor decided to preach. he was fiery to say the least, and i mean that in a literal way. he would say two sentences and then break into song, and then turn a phrase in the song into a prayer point and we spent the entire service standing and seating and moving around and screaming in prayer and sweating like pigs (and not necessarily in that order). so after one of those bouts of feverish supplications he asked everyone to keep their eyes firmly shut and peek at their own peril (why would anyone want to peek anyways? he wasn't exactly brad pitt)...as expected, some random woman in the crowd got "hit" by the spirit and to be completely honest i don't think the term hit quite encapsulates what she was doing. she was actually beaten up by the spirit as she flung herself violently into chairs, fellow church members, choir equipment, ushers trying to control her and all that. for me, its just a lil too dramatic cos i notice from experience that the same set of people seem to get "hit" at every deliverance service so anyways...
after they managed to curtail the rampage, the pastor asks everyone to be completely still. he then stops talking and then goes "thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus"...and next thing i hear is a good slap on my face. yes you heard me, slap. i'm usually not one to take a slap kindly or without retaliation and i was just going to say "what da f..." when he grabbed me by the belt and dragged me out like a common thief. at this point i'm thinking "this nigger doesn't know who i am; y'all better tell him before something bad happens up in 'ere". to cut an amazingly morbid story short, i found myself in front of the church (and i wonder why there were so many eyes staring at me even though there was supposed to be a curfew on eyes being open?) and told to immediately start training to be a church worker - basically, i had been called to serve. yeah, you heard right. me? a church worker? hahahahahah! i still laugh out loud at the idea. but i'm too superstitious not to obey so i have started my believer's class and i'm patiently waiting for the moment when they'll all realize they got the wrong guy. lol. wish me luck folks.
P.S: the morale of this story is, please don't be shocked when i come preaching in your neighbourhood, just pretend you don't know that i feel like a rainbow coloured flower in a men's toilet.
usually, i get to church late (intentionally) to avoid the sunday school part of it which i have always found to be needless and downright boring. i honestly havent seen the need to cut my short weekend even shorter by having to wake up that early on a sunday just to hear someone reading a manual out loud and merely repeating what he has said by way of explanation. everyone else in church pays such rapt attention during this said sunday school that i sometimes wonder if they actually understand a single thing or are just hoping the teacher won't point them and ask them a question. so anyways, now you know how i feel about church. honestly, i'm not one to fake love. i either love something or i don't bother with it no matter what anyone else thinks or says. ask my dad...
so yeah, this sunday i got to church and as usual again, i take my seat smack in the middle of the back-most row...i find that preachers are often attracted to those who seat (a) in the front rows; or (b) at the edges, hence my strategic positioning. clearly it was to be just another sunday until it came time for preaching. our usual pastor didn't get up to the podium and instead a visiting pastor decided to preach. he was fiery to say the least, and i mean that in a literal way. he would say two sentences and then break into song, and then turn a phrase in the song into a prayer point and we spent the entire service standing and seating and moving around and screaming in prayer and sweating like pigs (and not necessarily in that order). so after one of those bouts of feverish supplications he asked everyone to keep their eyes firmly shut and peek at their own peril (why would anyone want to peek anyways? he wasn't exactly brad pitt)...as expected, some random woman in the crowd got "hit" by the spirit and to be completely honest i don't think the term hit quite encapsulates what she was doing. she was actually beaten up by the spirit as she flung herself violently into chairs, fellow church members, choir equipment, ushers trying to control her and all that. for me, its just a lil too dramatic cos i notice from experience that the same set of people seem to get "hit" at every deliverance service so anyways...
after they managed to curtail the rampage, the pastor asks everyone to be completely still. he then stops talking and then goes "thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus"...and next thing i hear is a good slap on my face. yes you heard me, slap. i'm usually not one to take a slap kindly or without retaliation and i was just going to say "what da f..." when he grabbed me by the belt and dragged me out like a common thief. at this point i'm thinking "this nigger doesn't know who i am; y'all better tell him before something bad happens up in 'ere". to cut an amazingly morbid story short, i found myself in front of the church (and i wonder why there were so many eyes staring at me even though there was supposed to be a curfew on eyes being open?) and told to immediately start training to be a church worker - basically, i had been called to serve. yeah, you heard right. me? a church worker? hahahahahah! i still laugh out loud at the idea. but i'm too superstitious not to obey so i have started my believer's class and i'm patiently waiting for the moment when they'll all realize they got the wrong guy. lol. wish me luck folks.
P.S: the morale of this story is, please don't be shocked when i come preaching in your neighbourhood, just pretend you don't know that i feel like a rainbow coloured flower in a men's toilet.
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