In the church where I grew up, we had one usher. We callled her Aunty Eli (Her name was Elizabeth). She was the only usher in the entire church which was not so big. Apart from the numerous offerings that she attended to, she also had a special duty that she carries out.
The kids of the church were a set of people that she decided to oversee. She would make sure that we didn't run around the church, sit where we were meant to sit and more importantly, close our eyes during prayer.
For me, sitting in the right place was quite easy, but closing my eyes during prayer wasn't just my thing. I tried severally to do, but it would not just work and this made me to be distracted during prayers. The gimmick that an angel would pluck out my eyes if opened during prayers didn't work on me, but this usher did not allow me to rest.
She always had a short stick in her hand with which she makes sure that my eyes were shut! I am sure I must be the kid that gave her the most of the problems, but she has a way of getting me when I open my eyes during prayers.
It was a mystery; perhaps she watches me all the time. If my eyes are open during prayers, the nerves on my hand or head would be the ones to announce to me that Aunty Eli was already around. She became a terror to me and my peers. We couldn't stand the appearance of her shirt stick during prayers, hence we would close out eyes with so much energy that you would think it cannot be done effortlessly. Sometimes, I had to use my hand to hold my eyes just to make sure that I don't be a victim of the short stick.
She was just weird, according to my thoughts then and to make the matter worse, our parents would even encourage her to keep threatening the freedom of our eyes. She was very vigilant to the point that if you just opened your eyes for just a few seconds, you would be caught! I wondered if she ever had time to pray too.
Aunty Eli is no longer around me today (in fact, she is of blessed memory now), but I recognize the sacredness of the presence of God. I mean when humans gather and we call on the name of Jesus, that surrounding becomes a sacred place to me because we have called Jesus to come around.
You see, it is only babies that do not know that there are things you don't play with in the house. A baby can touch anything and even destroy things, but as he grows, he understands that there are some things that must not be touched or tampered with.
It takes maturity to understand that pressing of phone while prayer is going on is a disregard of whoever we are praying to. In a gathering, everyone present ought to be of one mind, but when someone decides to do an irrelevant thing, he breaks the chain.
God is sensitive to hearts that long after Him. The mind of such person must also be in alignment with the longing of the heart for God to visit. Our kingdom is sacred. I dislike it when comedians or some believers create some funny things using the scriptures or tongues or the church. We mustn't be loose people as if we do not have a Father.
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