Sin Is Sweet!

Have you ever gotten up from a very deep, intimate time of gist with Jesus, or a fiery prayer session and walked wide-eyed into sin? Have you?

I know I have. Because sin is sweet. Very schweet sontin.

I remember one instance – I shan’t give you details because the spirits of bloggery and Ikejiry abide within this wall. I had this amazing time with Papa, just gisting, with me doing most of the talking, as usual.

Anyway, I got up when we were done, looked at my phone and saw a missed call. It wasn’t from an ordinary somebody, no. It was one foine brother like that. We were very good friends o, but at the mention of his name, my heart used to do kikum…kikum…kikum.

I opened Wozzup and saw a message from him.

“Are you free? Come by the house, let’s hang out a bit.”

I knew, that me knew, that myself knew, that we had no business going to his house. Because it’s not only my heart that used to do kikum kikum when it saw that brother. Another body part used to get very eggzaited, in a most unholy way. While I was debating whether or, along came the Spirit of Rationalization. This spirit is a very intelligent being. It employs the use of logic and clear thought to tell you that even though you think you don’t have sense, you have small sense.

It said, “Babe, there’s nothing there. Knoweth he this brother that thine heart and nether regions are afflicted by kikummery whenever you see him?”

I said, “Of course not. We’re good friends. He haveth not any idea that I’d like to shoot my shot.”

To which the Spirit of Rationalization said, “You see? There’s nothing there. It’s not like going to his house is a sin. He enjoys your company and vice versa. All you guys do is gist and gist.”

“You’re right,” I said.

“Of course, I’m right,” Rationalization remarked. “Even if thou art beset by the kikums, you’ll be fine. You’re a strong, Christian woman. You just finished talking with Papa. Nothing shall by any means cause you to stumble. Type amen.”

“Amen!”

And so it came to pass, that I wore a nice dress and went to the fine man’s house. All went well until I got up to go and Fine Brother hugged me.

Schweet baby Jesus who is now an adult!

That’s how of all a sudden, I did not remember my name again. Ah. Eketi. What? Who’s that? Is that the name of an animal, place or thing?

It began with a hug. But it didn’t stop with that one hug.

Weeks later, I knew I desperately needed an intervention. I was seated in church when the Lord showed me a vision, where I was holding a ball of fire. It was burning me badly and I wanted to throw it away but I was enjoying the heat. I started crying.

Then he said, “How can I help you if you won’t let go?”

See ba, let me end the gist here. Why did I write this story sef?

Ehen, I remember.

When Temptation calls, hang up immediately. Don’t try or want to see how far you can go, how well you can withstand before you start burning. Don’t play yourself. Yes, we know you can pray for ten hours a day. You can quote the Bible from the benningging to the hend.

But remember that Jesus, Son of the Most High God, when Satan tried to make a contrary suggestion through Peter, Jesus silenced him.

Don’t play yourself. Run.

Over and out.