My Version of Why I Love My Church, Since I Couldn’t Have My Picture Taken

I was born and raised in a Pentecostal church. When I was 18, I left. I was weary of Christianity at this time, still searching for something that seemed to elude everyone around me, and starting to come off as too judgmental. Was my life going to simply come and go without me doing or being a part of something significant enough to rattle me and turn my world on its axis?

I joined Savannah Ministries in 2014, and it was a rigorous and immature transition. I knew I was meant to be here, but I’d already found a really good church, and therein lay the problem. I transited anyway.

Many people asked me and still ask me why I had to leave my former church[es] and commit to Savannah Grace Chapel Makurdi. They say things like, “We’re all Christians, and church is church.” But if anyone has realized that church just isn’t church, it’s me. Savannah Grace Chapel has rattled me, turned my world on its axis, kept it spinning, and I feel like a child laughing in awe at her Father’s awesome glory and trust.

So, I couldn’t sleep. I got tired of praying. I got restless and hungry, and I began to ruminate over my church, and words I heard on Sunday. Actually, I was thinking about Zac Efron in a movie where he and a divorced mother of one had the hots for each other (don’t judge), and what exactly might have given rise to the legalization of divorce, and how even if it had been a good idea at the time, Satan has funny ways of getting twisted ideas into the minds of people just to pervert good things. And then Sunday floated up from within me, and I heard my pastor’s voice inside me, saying, “But we are changing the signals in the city, operating from the air and changing every contrary thought in men’s minds about our land.”

Because life is spiritual.

And I remembered the words we speak over this land every week in church, and i started imagining us as a force, climbing higher and higher, and uprooting the satellites of the enemy, replacing all his signal sending points with ours.

And I realized that I LOVE MY CHURCH.

My church isn’t just any assembly. We have been ridiculed, mocked, praised and talked about. All of that makes no difference to us. We are rising and letting the Lord fill our hearts with vision for our city. We are the church whose words and prayers will birth the awesomeness that generations to come will enjoy. We are the church who is tearing down the veil of religion, tribalism, division, corruption, selfishness, complacency and tradition in the name of Jesus. We are living a life beyond our lives. We are dreaming for the city until it becomes the city of our dreams. We are looking beyond here and now, taking up the most sacred responsibility in spiritual realms to shape our city. We are taking the time to fit the Promised Land into our systems so that we don’t look back for an Egypt that is long gone.

I am blessed, honoured, and awed to be a part of something that is infinitely bigger than me. I am delighted beyond words to contribute to eternity with my own stroke of eternal life. I am so much bigger on the inside, and I feel the words we speak swallowing up and crunching into oblivion the darkness that has long shadowed us.

My church has made me love my land. My church has made me embrace my land and open myself to God’s plan for her. My church has enlarged my heart. So, as much as I utterly respect and honour all churches that honour Christ in one way or the other, my church isn’t just any church.

Makurdi is my city, and my church is one of the lights that makes her come alive.

I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

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