As I sat back on my chair, I smiled and chewed up the bread. I wasn't as sober as the rest but I was thankful.
Thankful for the peace I felt thereafter.
Thankful for the validity of my salvation
Thankful for the week that's to come.

I was not just thankful, I was also sure that the next week I was going to have faith as fearless a a the honey badger, was going to be a sloth to my religious instability, and no more a chameleon.

I am most thankful for what I have become... A Christian badger
Not only am I going to have that fearless faith in sure going to pester Christ alone

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But on this other day I was truly struck by this same congregation,
.... through my fault,
through my fault,
Through my most grievous faults...
The choir sounded clearer than ever, not just to my ears but to my heart. I could feel the sobriety of the congregation. Guess God was really going to forgive us all today.

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First, It's been a herculean task learning the Apostles' creed, and just the other day the priest mentioned the Gloria. I've successfully mastered the craft of kneeling and standing as well as the sobriety after communion which was too utopic. Not forgetting the daily fund raisings which for a simple Pentecost convert, is merely a show of affluence and all.

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I realised I was a religious chameleon
Prayed my chaplet on Monday
Called the Holy Ghost on Tuesday
Looked to the Moon on Wednesday
Consulted grandpa's agbala on Thursday
Used my cross on Friday
An atheist on Saturday
Now, here I am; on a Sunday
Among other things thinking of my new life as a catholic. Been ardent for 7 months now and just really feel like sharing my experiences.

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Earlier, to fix her life and rethink her decision, she was told of a lady who's got a degree at her age, a good job soon after the call to serve, and a rich guy. This lady also had a leading career, another degree, and was the standard she ought to look up to in a world of professionals.
But this pretty bluebird only loved freedom from a world she could call half cooked. At this point freedom meant living with no set standards..
(Now you can imagine the quandary )

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She was later to know that life's got more than pain and that more was dependent on what she's done, doing, and yet to do.

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You see, her dilemma is almost equivalent to religion- the quest to pick a specific name for a deity and accept a soothing dogma (dogma that will be confusing and unquestionable). She'd rather steal through life than live it or better still stay anon, because you see, that's just the less painful way through pain; and pain in this case being life, is inevitable till another inevitable- death- strikes.

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This same crowd that saw her, now jeers at her to keep up with the cheerleader stunts. Isn't this too much for her (now I'm narrating from what she told me with this indescribable look that just says she was uncertain).
I, the narrator, I'm painted with pretty lines of confusion just as seen in a piece of Ankara (only mothers know their names and why they're called what they're called).

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My heart
A deep ocean
To keep secret
All my shoulders hear

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Pleading for more in time in life

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