DAIRY OF A SUNDAY CHURCH WANDERER 1

Hello everyone, my name is Ubulaba and I am just a Sunday Christian. Nothing to be proud , someday, I hope to change.

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I have heard over time again and again when people say the church is like an hospital, it is not everyone who goes there that is well. I never believed it because I have never been able to comprehend what people who aren’t Christians are doing in churches until that Sunday

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Let me tell you the story

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‘Praise the Lord somebody!!!’

The response of the congregation was louder than the microphone.

It was my first Sunday at that particular church. No one invited me, I woke up on that Sunday morning and I desired a different Sunday service so I slayed up, stewed up and peppered up with my styled curly hair, ankara blazer, a black top inside and ankara skirt to match. I glammed up my looks with yellow heels and golden accessories .

You know what they say about first time impression, I wanted to make a memorable one so I bathed myself with almost half container of my perfume after dressing up. I took a look at myself in the mirror

Kai!!!

I was proud of myself. It has been long I looked that fantabulous.

I was good to go.

I love that the church didn’t have a restriction of ladies covering their hair so I could confidently show off my hair.

I was blessed by the sermon. The pastor’s wife taught us on sacrificial giving.

She asked to think of the most cheerful giver in our lives.

‘Now if that person, ask you for something that is sacrificial, hard but possible, would you give the person?’

Everyone echoed Yes!!!

“If our heavenly father was so cheerful to give us his only begotten son, what possibly can he ask you that you can’t spare?’

No one answered.

The sermon ended and the pastor who was in charge of offering did not have to quote many Bible verses to make us offer a Sacrificial offering.

I had just N30,000 (thirty thousand naira) in my purse. It was my whole money both home and abroad, cash and bank accounts. So I put a certain amount in the offering envelope.

Do not judge me and think that the amount wasn’t sacrificial enough. I worked on the Island but lived at Ikorodu. Out of five working days, at least four of it, I took a voyage from Ikorodu to Island to and fro to avoid obstacles like bad roads and bad driving, insane traffics and bus break down that could possibly cause delays in a busy city like Lagos. I would also have to buy all of my three square meals daily as I barely had time to cook.

The close of service was the best for me.

They treated us (first timer comers) like Kings and gave us a nice package.

Everything would have ended up as a beautiful Sunday that day , if I had gotten home with my purse.

Omo!!!

I have heard over time again and again when people say the church is like an hospital, it is not everyone who goes there that is well.

I didn’t believe it until that day.

My purse was stolen right in the church, inside my handbag.

It was a sacrificial taking away.

I had to work extra hours throughout that week to make that N30,000 to take care of that week expenses.

If you’re of those who steal in churches, repent before the judgement of God comes upon you.

But as for me, except by direct vision or prophesy , I am never visiting that church again.

Shey, it’s written ‘For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God.’ Romans 8:14

Happy Sunday