Tales from Church. Grace. 💒

 Tales from Church. 

There’s  days you’re required to enter his gates with praise and thanksgiving then use your shakara to win souls to the glory of God. I had one of those opportunities and I’m horrified to say that I blew it. Despite the fact that I had a modest book business of my own, I was a teeny bit scared of the boss at the other side gig so I tried to texturise my hair and accidentally fried it. 




Then reduced my work wardrobe to an array of assorted black trousers and different coloured blouses. Then one day, I watched myself walk past the usher at church in his gorgeous grey suit in my black trousers and the purple top I wore to work on Tuesday. Then I was purchasing  tops from Oxford street, we ran into a Nollywood actor in front of Dorothy Perkins, stared at him then walked past. It’s not every time you run into photo ops with the daughter! I kept my old Nokia N97 after their satellite was shut down and didn’t get the iPhone my local phone store was pushing through my letter box each week. 

My muse practically shoved me off the stage because I shrunk myself so much, I was unrecognisable. 

I was half bald and used a walking stick after that and couldn’t believe the blessings I’d been taking for granted. And that’s when the muse mercifully showed me velvet grey and white trainers in a shop window. I got the shoes and people stared and pointed on the streets. I got the iPhone 7 with red shoes for church, changed my hair salon and repented. And we’re back  with our tales from. 

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