Good day people…
Once again, I had a lovely weekend! I spent the entire weekend (and most of last week actually) back in my friend’s house with my our her baby!!! You might be wondering how she let me come near her child after reading about my plans to kidnap him on this blog right? Well, I called her up one evening and told her I had some very important business matters to discuss with her. So, she stopped by to pick me up on her way home from work…
I was carrying enough luggage for a one month long vacation, but the sight of my bags didn’t even scare her at all! I think she already knew that the “important business matter” was just a trick to get her to come.
As usual, I had a lovely stay. I was enjoying myself till yesterday morning when my friend came into my room and bundled me up in the sheets. Then she gagged me and dragged me, kicking and screaming, all the way to church. It had been a while since I last went to church… I’m not talking for weddings or funerals, I mean for an actual Sunday morning, praise-worshiping, sermon-hearing, offering-giving church service.
So why has it been so long?
The truth is, I’ve sorta lost faith in “church”. I’m so scared of old-generation churches and yet I do not trust these new-age churches owned by young funky men who say things like “Gonna” and “Wanna”. Also, I’m sure you’ve noticed that ERR’BODY goes to church!!! But if everybody goes to church, who are the girls and women banging our husbands and who are the men granting amnesty to terrorists? Who???
Anyway, as for my fear of old churches, you can like to blame it on my mother.
In her church (an old-generation church), the members believe that there’s a special seat in hell reserved for women who wear trousers. They think that women who wear make-up are direct descendants of Jezebel. I used to go there when I was much younger and the looks I got could freeze hell over. I know now that I was young and inexperienced in the use of make-up. So, looking back, I guess there were days I must have gone to church looking like a young female Marilyn Manson… still all the judgmental looks and statements were unnecessary. I used to feel like the second biggest sinner on Earth (the first being Ideye).
Then, every time I got into some form of trouble, and my mum asked, “What will people say?” I knew that what she really meant was, “What will my church people think?”
Sad to say, I still carry that mentality even in my old age.
So, every time I enter a church, a part of me fears that first of all, I’ll start to convulse. Then maybe I’ll fall on the floor, and start shaking like my vibrator, and foaming in my mouth, with my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Then the pastors might gather round me and try to exorcise my demons by praying in tongues and sprinkling Holy water all over me, till my skin starts to melt and peel in the places that the water touches…
Thank God none of that happened on Sunday. I’ll be honest though; I didn’t enjoy the service at all. It was a typical new-age wanna-gonna church so I already had my doubts going in. The choir was heavenly, the music was beautiful, but the message (which is usually the main thing for me) was pointless and painfully boring… all ten minutes of it. Maybe there was someone who needed that word at that particular point in time, but that someone wasn’t me.
Don’t get me wrong… it had all the necessary sound effects (enough “Whoop whoops!!” and “Yes Pastors!!”). It had the right amount of ginger (“Turn to your neighbor and say, God is in control!!”)… and it had the appropriate amount of self-fondling (“Put your hand on your breast chest and say to yourself, I am a blessing”). It had all the proper ingredients, but it just didn’t do it for me…
The best part about the service was that it was over in an hour n’ a half and some of the male ushers were cute as hell. After service, my friend untied my hands and feet and took me out for lunch and some ice-cream to make up for it 😀
Yes, she spoils me rotten!!!
Anyway, since I suffered no adverse reactions in church yesterday, I’ve decided to try somewhere else this Sunday. I mean, if Tu Face, a guy who has a baby mama for every day of the week, recognizes the fact that “nobody holy pass him”, why should I feel like such a sinner, right?
In the meantime, I want you to turn to your neighbor and tell your neighbor, “Have a blessed week!!!”