(picture credit: PixaBay)
There are angels in the sky.
The Sunday melody never gives me space to be with my own thoughts.
uneven drum beats meant to make the devil mad braces the atmosphere,
people in the same space,
all wailing their prayers at the same time,
some would say…..
oh what beautiful chaos!
People coming from church,
walking into the streets like they received special blessings today,
It’s the one day you get to see a bunch of people,
Bible at hand,
at the same time.
And they have this way of getting together after church,
And most times,
its never to summarize the sermon of the day.
I remember when I too was part of the flock,
When I too wanted so badly to believe in this
but never surpassed a minute of prayer.
I look at them now,
With their Bibles at hand,
Ready for the week because the minister said a word of prosperity for the week,
Ready to wake up in the morning and make the devil scared of them.
It’s the third day of a new month,
And so they said a prayer for a new month.
And the pastor had prepared a sermon in correspondence to that
And they clapped,
a short prayer of declaration,
and knelt before God to receive those blessings.
I fancy their resilience,
I really do.
I fancy how they keep going,
how the hold onto their faith,
that which the ministers proclaims,
Never stopping to question it all.
Never mind me!