No Time Like The Present
So Pastor has just preached a meaningful and poignant message. My notes are like super hot fire. Arms are waving, bodies upstanding, hands clapping, and the entire congregation has just made the Jericho-wall-tumbling declaration – “God will perfect everything that concerns me!’. Now for the dreaded part – the bit where we have to say it to our neighbour.
I turn to the left, I meet his eye, and say it with as little awkwardness as I can help, and I return my face forwards. Job done. I ignore the snapshot I had of a familiar small smile creeping up the side of his mouth.
I sense movement, and out of the corner of my eye I see a torso lean forward, then to the right.
It’s offering time. Blessing time.
Another declaration. This time to me.
“I think you’ve already been perfected”.
Jesus give me strength.
I see it at the top of the hill zooming down. I don’t fancy waiting ages for another one, so I leg it with my entire body, to the stop.
Just as I’m about to reach my destination, I hear it behind me and I whip around to make sure the driver can see me and does not drive past like some of them love to do.
I stick my hand out. As I do so, my face, then my hand falls in dismay.
Out of Service.
I want to crumple into a heap on the floor and cry. I ran with so much conviction. I never run for buses unless I am 110% sure I’ll get it. What is this new humiliation?
I see the bus come to a stop. The door opens. I go up to it. ‘Yes?’ I say tentatively. “Get on” “Huh? But you’re out of service” “Where are you going?” “Catford” “Get on”. I spend a millisecond considering the possibilities of this being a highly advanced new level form of kidnap. I come to the swift conclusion that this is not feasible. I enter in. I don’t tap my Oyster.
As the bus drives past the bus stops on the way, with the people staring at me in confusion as to why I’m on an out-of-service bus, I smile at them. I almost wave, but that would be juvenile wouldn’t it?
Education is Key
A Nigerian man sits behind us on the bus, content in his own thoughts. A Latter Day Saint espies his opportunity to spread the gospel. They are conversing, when the conversation takes a sudden turn:
Mormon: Where are you from? Are you from Yoruba?
Man: I’m from the East part of Nigeria. Is that all you’ve heard of?
Mormon: Your English is good…do you speak English in Nigeria?
Mormon: If you want to go on holiday outside your tribe, how do you do that? Can you do that?