It was no ordinary Sunday, the type well dressed worshippers come to just go through the motion, singing songs, saying prayers and be well on their way home.
Nobody knew the day was going to turn out dramatic and life changing. The service started as usual with Pastor Niyi saying the usual welcome and the choir singing. Everything changed while the choir was singing.
He wasnít very well dressed especially not for a Sunday morning service, the dirty faded red shirt and the torn up jean, the heavy stench of alcohol, the disheveled hair that made him look like he just had a fight showed he wasnít a churched person. But he had something to say and from the way he went about it he wasnít ready to wait to be called up to do so.
He walked up to the podium stood like he was the pastor in charge who had some thing very grievous to say to his congregation and was waiting patiently for the choir to end the singing. The way he got to the podium without the ushers knowing and the scene he create with the ones that came close to him to force him out made the pastor to rush to his aid.
He was carried out of the auditorium by the ushers; the pastor spoke some quick apologies and left also. The choir tried to ease the tension with some hot songs but
the tension within the congregation could still be felt strongly. While they were trying to adjust, the pastor emerged with the man right behind and to their very shock and disbelieve the pastor gave him the microphone and left the podium.
I know this is a bridge of protocol, the man started, and am very sorry about that but that seemed to be the only way to get the attention and permission to get this word across. I know am not very well dressed for this gathering and I must apologize.
For long I have been a regular worshipper here. I snick in and out every Sunday to hear the word not with the intention to change, but because it helps me get lines to use to torment my flat mate who is a Christian.
Iíve heard a lot said about love here but none of that touched me till I saw it lived out this morning by my room mate.
Iíve been very mean to him I have abused him verbally and sometime I assaulted him physically also because I really hated him and wished him dead I did not kill him maybe because I lacked the nerves to do so.
Last night I came home in a drunken stupor. I turned on the stove, I canít say or remember when or why I did and I slept off .I was told this morning when I woke up that a fire started from the stove and I was chocking in my deep sleep was about to burn when my flat mate came to my rescue. He was badly injured while getting me to safety.
I didnít understand the gravity of it till I saw what was left of my room.
I just had to come to confess and let you know that the pulpit in the heart of my friend (that is what he has been all this while) which showed in the way he treated me and loved me has spoken more to win my heart than a hundred sermons Iíve heard from the pulpit here in this church building.
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