what do you do on a Sunday morning when you miss church?

All your life you have known Sundays are sacred. It’s the Sabbath day. When you were young, your mum introduced you to God –okay, Sunday school where the teachers introduced you to God. To make sure that you don’t get it twisted as to which side you should pursue. You were introduced to the devil. Well, not really introduced, you were shown who he was. A dark, ugly vicious creature with two protruding teeth, two horns and one hand wielding a hoe. Nothing could better personify what the Bible says is the devil’s role. “steal, kill, and destroys.” And as a child, the prospect of following such a person was scary. You decided to stick in church. And have remained there since.

So, this past Sunday I had purposed to go for Stanchart marathon. I have done it for the past three years. This year I had intended to do the full marathon. This requires a lot of preparation. Spending four hours running is not a joke. I was not ready, not even for the 21. I have been running, so I am in a good shape, just not fit enough to run the full marathon. I was undecided. A friend asked in a group who wanted to run the marathon. Since an earlier commitment had been cancelled, I jumped in. And to make it more exciting, I said we should compete. Whoever loses buys breakfast. I knew he couldn’t beat me even if I walked the whole course. HaHa. But I somehow lost.

He went quiet the previous day. He had chickened out. I thought. We were to agree the meeting time in town. He called me on Sunday morning at 7:30 asking me where I was. I said, ‘in bed, warming up.’ He laughed. I told him I was going to join them in a while, but there was no way I was going to make it in town in less than an hour. I boycotted. Now I had a full morning that I didn’t know what to do.I am never home on a Sunday morning.

When I was young, I’d wake up very early, wash the car- my grandpa had a Datsun 1200. That’s also how I learnt to drive when I was very young- then leave for Sunday school. In high school, we had mass every Sunday. I enjoyed the catholic songs but the constant standing during Eucharist was a pain. We never knelt during mass, we normally held our mass in the dining hall and the floor was too dirty to kneel. After high school, I joined a group of youngings wanting to make church cool. We were the pacesetters. Still are. Same time I would serve in church every Sunday. Now, every Sunday I am in church by 7 am for the youth service. So when I found myself with a free Sunday morning I didn’t know what to do with it. I could have made it to church, but I was too lazy to prepare.

I was tempted to sleep in, but I figured I might sleep forever. And who would want to die on a Sunday (by the way, my Grandpa died on a Sunday morning. But he had lived a full life, he asked for tea, but by the time the nurse came back, he was gone. Gone forever. He died on a Sabbath. God must have been very happy to welcome home) morning when you have not kept the Sabbath holy. You would die a sinner and have a lifetime date with the devil you have avoided all your life.

I wanted to make breakfast. Fry some eggs and serve with some Weetabix. But I feared that the gas might explode and burn me to death. Like a teaser for eternal fire that awaits me. I even imagined choking on the egg yolk. A punishment for feeding my human man while I should have been feeding my spirit man. I was terrified. It is amazing how one can be deeply religious yet subtly superstitious. I am an African after all.

I couldn’t read a book. Imagine reading a book while I should have been studying the Bible?

So I sat in bed and reminded God of the good things I had done in my life. I felt good. Less of a sinner. I then took a shower. I didn’t make it to church. I linked up with my friends. First question I asked, “what do you do on a Sunday morning when you miss church?” They laughed. They had been trying to figure the same the whole morning. They had also missed church. Fellow sinners. HaHa

My wannabe marathoner WhatApped me, two hours later. ‘Nimemaliza, breakfast on you. Haha”  He had the guts to ask for breakfast after running (crawling) a marathon for two hours. To those who ran the whole course, ran for a reason, someone will see again because you decided to run. Anyone who has run a proper marathon has no strength for raising their eyebrows let alone taking a selfie. So all those slay queens who took selfies at start point then walk across to the finishing line to take a self-20 minutes later, may calories never give you peace for cheating your body.

Later, I went to see my sister and her new born baby. I am an uncle, again. To a baby girl. After a week, is the baby still a new born? And does that make me an new uncle? With that, I had sort of atoned for my sins. And on judgement day, as angel Gabriel- who I think will be on duty- adjust his old geek glasses as he reads out my sins, when he gets to that day and points out, “you missed church on this day.” I will remind him I went to see a baby, a newborn baby. The add, ‘that counts for something, right?”

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