I yawned loudly and glanced around, attracting judgmental glares from a few pious faces. To say I was bored would have been stating the obvious. The preacher kept talking in his flat monotone and I couldn't help noticing that around the church auditorium, some heads were nodding - but not in agreement with what the preacher was saying. Some were leaning against the pew in front of them, huge Bible open as if they were intently reading scripture but they had gone far into sleep land. At least one one man threw caution to the wind, leaned back in his seat and snored softly while the slightest hint of drool peeked from the corners of his lips.

Even the evangelists in their exalted seats in front of the church weren't faring better. One particular evangelist leaned precariously at the edge of his seat and I was worried that at any moment, he would drop to the ground - not that I would complain because that would be hilarious.

However, some eyes were wide open. The usual suspects - Mrs. Eze and Mrs. Adebola, the fashion divas of the church were casting their gazes across the length and breadth of the auditorium to see if anybody had noticed their resplendent outfits. They always acted like they were friends - yet it seemed every Sunday, they dressed to upstage each other. Today, Mrs Eze's gold necklace looked so heavy I was wondering if air could pass through her windpipe. Mrs. Adebola, on the other hand, wore a gele that was so broad, it should serve as a satellite dish receiving signals from twelve different countries. I could see the man behind her craning his neck in an effort to get a view of the pastor and, just when he found a good view, she would move her head and render the preacher invisible again. He looked like the only thing stopping him from hurling insults was the fact that he was in the house of God. I sniggered.

Pastor Segun glanced at his watch and I could see him choke down a yawn. He cast his eyes around the auditorium - kind of like I was doing. Was he bored too? He clearly looked it. He also looked like he was regretting inviting the preacher to speak this particular Sunday - or any Sunday for that matter and was making a mental note never to invite him again. Besides, the preacher had been allocated one hour to speak; he had crossed an hour thirty minutes and was heading towards two hours with no sign of rounding up any time soon. He signaled to the assistant pastor and whispered something to him. I'm pretty sure he said "never invite this man to preach here again" but I could be wrong.

It seemed like after the better part of two hours, the preacher suddenly realized that he was boring the congregation. Either that or he heard the pastor's ban. Suddenly he kicked the things up a notch and started speaking fiercely in accusatory tones that could have risen the dead.

"..........it is a shame, I tell you. You people cannot listen to the word for two hours. Two hours! When I am at home, I listen to back-to-back messages from different pastors for seven hours straight....."

Pastor Segun couldn't stop his eye-roll and probably muttered something about our church not being where Guinness records for longest preaching are broken.

"...that is why I am filled with the spirit! Most of you come here just to show off your expensive watches..." He glanced meaningfully at pastor Segun's wrist. Pastor Segun raised an eyebrow. "....expensive necklaces...." Mrs. Eze clutched her gold necklace. "....tie gele like you are expecting a message from outer space...." Mrs. Adebola looked scandalized..."....and sleep like you don't have beds at home! When the man of God is talking! God's angels are watching, and taking notes o. At the end of today, they will report back to God. What do you want the report on you to say?"

A hubbub rose and died under two seconds.

"I've given the message I was sent to deliver. I hope it will not stand against you on the day of judgment."

Silence.

The preacher stepped off the pulpit, visibly annoyed and took his seat. The assistant pastor quickly got up and took his place on the pulpit.

"May the Lord bless his words in our heart. Amen. It's testimony time. If you have a testimony to share, if God has done...."

A shout cut him off from somewhere at the back of the church.

"Praaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaise the Lord!"

The church turned as one to look for where the shout came from and collectively groaned when they found out who it was. Madam Hope, giver of testimonies, testifier extraordinaire and the one person whose testimonies lasted long enough to qualify as a sermon. She also used her testimonies as an avenue to criticize those in the church she currently had issues with - which was almost always the pastor's wife - using comments that were so thinly veiled that if she had just said the person's name, it would have been less obvious. Most times, by the end of her testimonies, three quarters of the church wouldn't still be sure exactly what she was testifying about. I could see more than a few people pick up their Bibles and get up from their seats. The assistant pastor spotted her and looked alarmed.

"It appears we have no testimonies for today." He said, quickly. "Let us rise as we share the grace together."

Madam hope's scandalized expression was enough to erase the boredom of the past two hours.

Today was good.


https://vedacato./2018/07/14/church-observer-short-story/

;Dinteresting

wow.....Lol....


can visualize that scenario vividly...

been there... done that

This is good

I could just picture the whole scene in my head��....
Splendid as always