#everidayTori
Mr. Babs kicked our ass out of the house; making it mandatory for us to attend the first Sunday service of the new year-2019. It looks like an orthodox practice to me; remembering those days when my Dad will drive us (his children) out of the house; even if soap is still married to your face(that one no konsain him). Sunday school class conducted before the main church service is a must for siblings and nibblings under his watch back then. So, I decided to attend his(Mr. Babs) church as my Cesar Paciotti shoeđ will accommodate my tuxedo suit. My love for short sleeve shirtsđ still remains undying like that of aboki for Goro. Because I am still to attend another friends' church later in the day, I had to ask him; "What time will the service end?" Before 10:00am he retorted assuredly. With the speed of light, I pressed my rumpled attire with iron but then, save for the preference of warm water to bathe, I wouldn't have spent up to 20 minutes between the time I was informed to the time I finally dressed up. Not just myself and Mr. Babs, Mr. Labs is also expected to go with us; making 3 peeps added to the attendance at church today. Mentioning him last was quite intentional; owing to the fact that he delayed us for a good number of minutes before we could finally leave home for church.
"Trek or blow bike?" Mr. Babs asked; knowing fully well that we are already running late, I suggested taking bike so that we can meet up with some sister Caros' sonorous praise and worship session.
The venue of the church now wears a new look compared to what I saw during my last visit; not to mention it's look way back when I used to attend summer lesson in the mid 90's. The interiors, architecture and aesthetics made it look like a modern Pentecostal church; though the chairs and altar arrangement will swiftly remind you it's an orthodox and pure Baptist setting.
Oops! Sister Caro wasn't the one singingđ.Maybe it's her Dad dishing this lengthy Sunday school sermons. Sir, I am here for Thanksgiving Service and some other ministerial assessment jor; not this analyses of Brother Pauls' life on a first Sunday. I later signaled to my guys that I need to answer the call of natuređł (Biko! don't let me bore /nauseat you with my poo story jare). On my way from the restroom, I met a female secondary school mate; she is with child- like 3 years akeep. She couldn't wait for long as she pleaded with me that the kid urgently needs to do what I equally came out to do; but not without leaving me with the impression of how a married woman who is your mate will sound; especially nursing mothers (respectful kind of, lively and with soft jokes). By the time I returned to the church auditorium, another Sermonizer had mounted the pulpit. Mr. Labs' calculation perfectly tallied with mine as he asked "is leaving by 10:30am not good?" I nodded in agreement.
10:30am on the dot! And we checked through the order of program given to us to discover that drama is almost next. I persuaded my friends to let's watch the drama ministration before we leave; only for the anchor to skip the drama ministration and jumped to 'offering time' . Mr. Babs hinted that we'll be leaving immediately after dropping our offering into the basket.
I like the way the collection of offering was planned; to dance to the front and drop our substance into the basket. And so, we danced to the back of the church and humbly bowed out of the church premise...
Story by Ayomide Abiona
Edited by Olawale Akinyede
#everidayTori
Series 003
nigerianthem is there to let you know....
Mr. Babs kicked our ass out of the house; making it mandatory for us to attend the first Sunday service of the new year-2019. It looks like an orthodox practice to me; remembering those days when my Dad will drive us (his children) out of the house; even if soap is still married to your face(that one no konsain him). Sunday school class conducted before the main church service is a must for siblings and nibblings under his watch back then. So, I decided to attend his(Mr. Babs) church as my Cesar Paciotti shoeđ will accommodate my tuxedo suit. My love for short sleeve shirtsđ still remains undying like that of aboki for Goro. Because I am still to attend another friends' church later in the day, I had to ask him; "What time will the service end?" Before 10:00am he retorted assuredly. With the speed of light, I pressed my rumpled attire with iron but then, save for the preference of warm water to bathe, I wouldn't have spent up to 20 minutes between the time I was informed to the time I finally dressed up. Not just myself and Mr. Babs, Mr. Labs is also expected to go with us; making 3 peeps added to the attendance at church today. Mentioning him last was quite intentional; owing to the fact that he delayed us for a good number of minutes before we could finally leave home for church.
"Trek or blow bike?" Mr. Babs asked; knowing fully well that we are already running late, I suggested taking bike so that we can meet up with some sister Caros' sonorous praise and worship session.
The venue of the church now wears a new look compared to what I saw during my last visit; not to mention it's look way back when I used to attend summer lesson in the mid 90's. The interiors, architecture and aesthetics made it look like a modern Pentecostal church; though the chairs and altar arrangement will swiftly remind you it's an orthodox and pure Baptist setting.
Oops! Sister Caro wasn't the one singingđ.Maybe it's her Dad dishing this lengthy Sunday school sermons. Sir, I am here for Thanksgiving Service and some other ministerial assessment jor; not this analyses of Brother Pauls' life on a first Sunday. I later signaled to my guys that I need to answer the call of natuređł (Biko! don't let me bore /nauseat you with my poo story jare). On my way from the restroom, I met a female secondary school mate; she is with child- like 3 years akeep. She couldn't wait for long as she pleaded with me that the kid urgently needs to do what I equally came out to do; but not without leaving me with the impression of how a married woman who is your mate will sound; especially nursing mothers (respectful kind of, lively and with soft jokes). By the time I returned to the church auditorium, another Sermonizer had mounted the pulpit. Mr. Labs' calculation perfectly tallied with mine as he asked "is leaving by 10:30am not good?" I nodded in agreement.
10:30am on the dot! And we checked through the order of program given to us to discover that drama is almost next. I persuaded my friends to let's watch the drama ministration before we leave; only for the anchor to skip the drama ministration and jumped to 'offering time' . Mr. Babs hinted that we'll be leaving immediately after dropping our offering into the basket.
I like the way the collection of offering was planned; to dance to the front and drop our substance into the basket. And so, we danced to the back of the church and humbly bowed out of the church premise...
Story by Ayomide Abiona
Edited by Olawale Akinyede
#everidayTori
Series 003
nigerianthem is there to let you know....
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