March 16, 2017
Before I begin, I would just like to state that I am die hard Christian and I would be nothing without Jesus.

Now the truth of the matter and I bet a lot of you growing up with African parents especially Nigerian parents would agree with me when I say that growing up I never liked Sundays. I saw Sundays as the most stressful day of the week and I never understood why we had to go to a particular place every Sunday to perform the same weekly rituals.

The Sunday stress would normally begin on Saturday evening with my mum yelling at me and my siblings to go get our Sunday outfit so that she could inspect them to make sure we do not look shabby. I hated this part because growing up if there was anything I hated the most was dressing up; I was never the usual girly girl who would play dress up with her Barbie dolls or have sleepovers with friends. I was more of the reserved tomboy who would rather play PlayStation with her brother.

After my mum would finish inspecting our outfits, she would make us go to bed really early and I really disliked this part because even till now I am a night crawler. I dislike sleeping early even when I am exhausted, I just dislike the fact of going to bed when people were still awake. I loved being the last to sleep. And so when my mum would yell ‘Bola go and sleep, you know tomorrow is Sunday’ I would be filled with so much anger and rage which I couldn’t let out if I wanted to see another day. So I would slowly and quietly go to bed and sleep off.

By 5am my parents would be up already. My mum not minding that she has other children, would walk straight into my room screaming my name to wake up and when I didn’t would either pour water on me or hit me with cloth hanger. Now I never understood the reason behind this; you call Sunday a day a joy, a day to serve our creator who has kept us alive, hale and hearty throughout the week and then here you are beating me to wake up and be happy, how is that possible. So from waking up angry to all the yelling and stress of getting ready I would enter the house of God really pissed out and be counting down the hours until I was home again.

Growing up I hated this Sunday ritual but now living alone in the university where I am my own woman, free to go to church or nah, free to wear whatever I want to wear, free to wake up with a smile on my face, I would say I love Sundays now. I hardly miss a chance to be in the LORDS presence. I smile in church and to my surprise I started dancing in church and I love it.

I know everybody in one way or the other has experienced or is currently experiencing this or something like this on Sundays; I know it is a terrible feeling right now and you might be lowkey hating on the Lord but I would like to plead with you to please don’t. Do not hate the Lord for something he did not do, Sundays were meant to be fun and beautiful as he planned it to be but our parents ruined that. So please just be patient because pretty soon you would leave the house and would get to experience Sundays as I am experiencing and enjoying it right now.
Do not run away from the Lord because of this bad experience but get closer to him because in the presence of the Lord there is this ineffable peace and harmony that no human would ever want to leave.

P.S: I would really like to know what you guys feel about this post. Did you or are you currently experiencing something like this? What did your parents do or are doing that made or is making you hate Sundays? Tell me all about it in the comment section below and let’s laugh about it together knowing that it is just a phase and that we would pass and come out of it loving the Lord more than ever before.

Bye for now guys……….LOVE YOU J   

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