The worship leader collected the wired microphone from the prayer coordinator, who had set the atmosphere burning with some capital tongue speaking in the rented hall.
“Lerogete aikolema ribainda, Endoskelesh endoski barabai!”
He had declared with ferocity and some vibration of hands. One could see that the few members who came to church early had caught the fire.
Sayo watched through thick concave glasses as the pretty assistant choir coordinator took her place behind the wooden pulpit. A glance at the choir stand made her wonder why the role of praying, using the ‘Prayer cord’ as a reference, usually went to the guys while the Eve gender huddled together for the singing role. Maybe God answered their prayers faster, she thought.
The young adult in a black gown with Ankara pleats at the sleeve murmured something while she held the microphone slightly away. She was telling God something that the congregation need not hear.
The pianist switched from the epic prayer beat fit for a Korean movie war scene to what the church lingo tagged ‘strings’. It was musical notes that went on continuously before it switched to another, descending and ascending. In an instant, the tempo of the atmosphere turned meditative.
.
“Lift your hands and worship Jesus this morning,” She said in a honey-laced voice. “Give your wer-ship to Jeeezes” She continued in thick phonetics that made her sound American before launching into singing in tongues. Gradually, her voice rose. It got louder and louder, and she got overwhelmed by the Holy Spirit. She didn’t care for appearances anymore.
Sayo opened her eyes again. The pretty worshipper was already on her knees, one hand holding the pulpit for support.
And then, she stopped as one who had touched the very chord that the Sunday program would thrive on.
“You are good, you’re good, oooooooooooh,” She sang into the microphone, head bowed. It was a song by Bethel Music featuring the dynamic Steffany Gretzinger. The worship leader repeated the line, and something struck Sayo in the gut. The ‘oooooooooh’ made her conscious of the words that came before it.
“You are good,” Echoed again, strumming the fabric of her heart. The piano beat became faster, and a “you are good” collided with another in rapid succession. Sayo fell to her knees, and the tears came. She did not realize how much she needed a good, vulnerable sob before God. Her Chemistry 191 Continous assessment had totalled a 17/40 on the departmental scoreboard for all her coursemates to see.
“Yes I know, you’re never gonna let, you’re never gonna let me down!” The worship leader had switched to the song’s bridge, turning Sayo into a wailing child. God’s promises about her education, as she had recorded in her journal Flashed in her eyes, and she regained new energy. She resolved to check out the lifestyle of those who aced the C.A, and do her best yet, all the while chanting the “You’re never gonna let, you’re never gonna let me down” with every fibre of her being.
At the end of the church service, she went to the Assistant Choir Cord, who turned out to be her namesake, Precious, a name she had dropped at the gate of the University.
“I was blessed by your ministration this morning, Mumsy Precious,” She beamed, adding the Mumsy prefix as a form of respect.
“You were?” Mumsy Precious asked, genuinely surprised. “God be praised,” She said after staring at the girl’s joyful face.
“I was. It was like God had you sing that song because of me,” Sayo said and suddenly hugged the bewildered Assistant Choir Cord. Mumsy Precious smiled as she watched her new church friend walk towards the gate back to her hostel.
Meanwhile, during the worship, she had thought she was being selfish, baring her heart to God to the detriment of the people’s needs.
While on the pulpit, she suddenly realized that Bro prayer cord’s severing of her relationship with him might be for the best. It was a relationship that had the approval of the church leaders.
She realized that only God knew the true hearts of his children, and had even shed a tear. It was appropriate that anyone thought it was solely the moving of the Holy Spirit. While, in reality, he was making her understand truths that were hard to fathom.
Kneeling before God on that pulpit, she had felt small, in a good way. She was like a servant accepting the will of her master, even though it did not make sense. But she was the apple of God’s eye, a beloved child whom God had the thoughts of prospering and bringing to an expected end. He had ministered through her predicament to another of his children.
That was enough for now.
Happy Sunday! ‘Church chronicles’ is fiction in every sense, even though it contains real-life events that I’ve decided to write about in the following weeks.
Check out other stories while you await the next episode here.
As a worship leader myself, it is fair to say that we all have worship moments stories, and this is in no way one of my worship leader’s friends or mine. Yeah, Mumsy Precious, this is not your story, right?
Care to share yours in the comment section? We’ll be happy to hear from you.
This is a very great piece✨. It’s a rare opportunity to worship God. It is a portal to really express oneself to God wholeheartedly.
Yes, without shame🥳
Sometimes a good session of tearing up before God is all you need to get back on your feet.
Agreed. David did same a lot of times.