Wounded Pilgrim 21

A CHURCH VISITOR

The church service was a few minutes from kicking off with the pre-service which mainly consisted of a praise and worship service. There was also a session for special singing from a few church members who had been selected to sing on that particular day. Normally on a single day the song leader received over whelming requests in note form from those who wanted to sing on that particular day. Sometimes there were none at all and when it rained there would be up to twenty requests at ago. However only two or three got the chance to sing.

Bartholomew had no courage to stand up there on the platform to sing like many other youths of his age and those younger than him would have wished. He often wondered where the kids young enough to be in kindergarten and probably lower primary school got the courage to sing songs there off heard. Some of the songs had tonal variations and would involve singing sustain minor keys.  He was sure they not trained a lot but also their parents had a hand in that kind of singing.

He remembers back at home in the village things were different. Unlike here in the city where only kids and youth sung specials back there only married and old sung. Mostly such singing was expected from such a group since they had gone through a lot in their life specially to do with marriage and child upbringing. Since there wasn’t much time for everyone to give testimony for whatever the Lord had done for them in their life most church members chose to testify through songs. Songs like “Tis not an easy way to heaven”, “They that wait upon the Lord”, “Have thine own way”, “The higher ground” or “I shall not be moved” were often favorites for those who sung specials. But if you were a youth and you sung a song most people would wonder what its that makes you sing it is not an easy way to heaven or you feel like travelling on or even you surrendering all.

The clock was ticking and already the pre-service was coming to and end. The trustees had finished collecting tithes and offering and one deacon was moving to the front to pray for the collections and even pray for main service. The congregation was singing a familiar chorus “Only Believe” in a prayerful mood. Bartholomew who had forgotten to check his phone for a while after getting absorbed by a special singing from Sister Mercyline felt his phone vibrate. He had been checking his phone his phone from time to time ever since he got in the church hall. He often liked the singing from Mercyline and at times recorded videos of her and took photos of her but since he saw she often entertained the company of the brothers who played the musical instruments he knew she was not available for nobodies like him. The last time he tried his hands-on musical instruments he broke a string in one of the guitars and the drum sets was broken after he hit it hard. The piano was complicated to him and he was not seeing a miracle of him learning it and being able to play like a witch to be attract people like Mercyline.

There were about three missed calls on him phone and five unread text messages from Sister Anastacia. She is the one who had kept him checking his phone throughout the morning. She had called him the previous night at about eleven o’clock saying she was new to the city having moved in to start a new job. She needed directions to the church and that someone had given her his number for that kind of help. Although he managed to give her precise directions to the church location he knew he had to pick her from the main road where she would be alighting. It is the reason he had kept checking his phone to see if she had gotten there as they had agreed. Those missed calls and texts meant she had gotten there already and that she would probably getting bored with him not responding to her.

“You must be Bartholomew”, she almost shouted when he approached a woman whom he thought was the visitor. She now replacing a frown on her face with a broad smile.

“Oh I am, and am very sorry for keeping you waiting” Bartholomew apologized as he stretched his hand to greet her.

“It’s okay you here finally and so I am.” Annastacia stood up from pillar stump where she had been sited and stretched her long dress. “let’s go to church I know we are already late brother.”

They walked in silence side by side till they got the gate of the church where each had to be frisked and inspected by the relevant security officers.

“Do you have designated places for sisters and brothers to sit here?” she asked him as they walked into the drive way away from the gate.

“No” Bartholomew answered as they made one of the few steps into the church door.

The pastor was already in the pulpit already preaching and everyone was already settled. Bartholomew went to place where he had left his bible. It was in the third row from the front. He didn’t notice her following him until he made like to sit down. She was right there behind him. He felt embarrassed but he had no choice but to make more space for her on the bench where she could sit. Since he like sitting on the edge of the bench she went in first and he sat after she had sat an impression that was normally reserved for married couples.

Throughout the sermon poor Bartholomew kept getting distracted sited next to a stranger who made him feel different and awkward. While she seemed to be enjoying the sermon and all that humor that the pastor kept adding to his preaching he was wondering when the sermon come to an end. He would have wished to leave the service early but then since he had his Bible with him there that would be impossible to do since everyone would know that he left early.

Suddenly the pastor jumped into a song and gestured the congregation to stand. Bartholomew felt happy the sermon was over and that the torture was also ending. After the song was over the pastor asked the congregation to sit again and he continued with his sermon. Bartholomew was shocked and he took out his smartphone to check time. It was half past eleven meaning the sermon had something like an hour to go, quite a long time to be sited listening to a sermon you are even following. It was then that he realized the pastor had made the congregation sing since he saw some of them were sleeping in his sermon. He liked to preach to a sober congregation.

The pastor preached on as Bartholomew continued to agonize when it would end. His mind was probably showing him what awaited him after the church service outside there. During the God-bless-you time when people church members are busy shaking one another’s hand he knew much was expected to hit him for the great impression he had put up and all forms of comments maybe.

“Don’t leave me behind after church!” read a small note Anna had slipped on his hand.