Of Religion and Spirituality

I’m not a religious person. My parents have tried as hard as they can but ko le werk, when I was much younger I used to do the whole Block rosary meetings (kinda like Pentecostal House fellowship,) where we would pray decades upon decades of the rosary, attend mass and all but that was it. I didn’t come back feeling refreshed in the spirit and what not but I was always happy because those were the few times I could leave home whenever and come back by 7:30pm. For a long time actually, I used to feel like something was wrong with me because I didn’t know how to pray in tongues neither had I ever “fallen” under the anointing. Lol, stress. Now I can laugh about it but then it wasn’t funny o, I would lock myself up in the toilet and pray for tongues-speaking powers. whenever a pastor/priest/anyone at all would lay hands on me, my concentration level was always on a 100 because I wanted God to see how serious I was an send the holy spirit to possess me but it never happened and I just concluded that I had some evil spirits inside me that hadn’t manifested yet.

I’m not religious. I’ve not read the bible cover to cover, what am I saying? I’d have to check the contents page to find Micah, I don’t go to church every Sunday (I’m really trying to change that), I’m extremely sinful, sometimes unashamedly so, I still don’t speak in tongues, I still have not fallen under the anointing even though the thought has crossed my mind severally to fake the something and go, I know people that say I don’t look like a Christian , whatever that means , but one thing I know is that there’s a God and for some inexplicable reason, He’s still letting me live. The near death experiences I’ve had are just too numerous to start writing down, even my birth was a miracle in itself but He’s still letting me live, it’s not like I’ve done anything to deserve such mercy.

For a long time I just had hate inside, things would happen and I would cry and ask him what he was up there for, why couldn’t he just come and say something to instantly make things better, I would cry and cry and then go to church on Sunday, a bitter, empty child. I still cry to him because life can get hard but I no longer blame him for anything, all I ask for is that he shows me why I have to grow through whatever situation it is in time. It’s amazing that I now find myself crying while praying or listening to a gospel song by all these people that have voices that will just make you confess to what you didn’t do or that my intuition or sixth sense or whatever you like to call it is off the charts, I remember a friend joking that the way she was looking at me, God would soon call me. Guy, she was joking o.

I’m no longer as foolish as I was  but I’m not close to where I’m supposed to be but I know that even as much as my dad loves me, it can’t be compared to the one He has for me and I don’t know what other knowledge would make me feel better about living in this cruel place.


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