I am invited to church by three pretty friends who live together next door. I decline as the last time I visited a non-orthodox church I only ended up saying “Amen” to other people’s powerful prayer punchlines, charley people can vibe God oo…but they were insistent and one evening I followed them.
The enigmatic pastor, dressed in extremely shiny suit prayed and prayed and prayed, a few unforgivable grammatical errors in there, but hey English is not our first language. By this time my ladies were were in the spirit and praying loudly and casting things here and there. I tried closing my eyes but couldn’t, one fine woman with an unassailable posterior was jumping up and down and pacing in front of me in prayer…I had to get into the spirit!
Then the pastor asked for water. An assistant brought a sachet…he raised it into the skies and enchanted it in charismatic fashion.
Everyone started holding hands as the count down began, 1, 2, Holy Spirit!. Almost the entire congregation fell down as the water was sprayed among the congregation. People fell even at places the sprinkling could not have reached. My three friends were rolling on the ground, one was twisting her waist like fish out of water, the other had a hyper extended neck ad screaming whilst attempting to claw at my feet, I removed my leg quickly, whilst the third was simply crawling on the ground like Harry Potter looking for his glasses. I was probably the only person still standing along with the men who were assisting the pastor.
I looked left, looked right and left again, then I got out of there and went home. Who was I to remain there when the people who took me there were manifesting on the ground like Nebuchadnezzar? Another time I will tell you about the man of God who nearly broke my spectacles as a miracle in healing me of eye problems, and of course what happened when I saw my friends in the morning. I think I gotta give them new names.
Yours in the Spirit,
James Mawuli Gawu.
