"Mea culpa. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa."
"Through my fault. Through my fault. Through my most grievous fault"
It was just like always. As dry as ever. Same words. Same spot. Change they say is constant, and she knew best what change means for her. Confession didn't change anything.
"It's me again, God."
Maybe God was tired of hearing the same prayers from some good-for-nothing-girl. If there was a God, why would he even care to listen? She fingered every bead on her late mothers old chaplet. Hunted by the thought of Mama's ceaseless prayers, she muttered:
"It's me again. Nobody else"
"The Lord be merciful unto you", a male voice echoed from behind
She felt a hand on her weak shoulder. "So be it, father."
Reverend Father Onyeka had always assured her of Gods mercies. Did he really know what mess her life had been? Was he just doing his religious duties? Who cares?
No time to think about that now. Girl, time to leave. Mama must be smiling now.
Had she not made a promise to mama on her death bed, she'd never step foot into any cathedral. Confession time only brought her shame. She couldn't stand the pain of spitting out her own filth to anyone. She hated being exposed.
"Call upon me in the day of trouble, says the Lord." Rev. Fr. Onyeka was saying when Mary interrupted
"You won't understand father. Mama did, but..." She stopped herself. Not today. Her heart almost jumped out of her rib cage.
Fr. Onyeka could see the tears welling up in her eyes. But she managed to smile. Control yourself girl. You ain't gonna let nobody fool you about a loving God.
Mary was no atheist. She believed in the existence of God. Block rosary was one of her best days as a growing girl. But what has happened to her now?
"What happened to me?" she heard herself saying.
"Anything on your mind?", inquired Fr. Onyeka.
But Mary knew how to pretend to be doing fine even though her world was falling apart. "Nothing, Father." Or at least there's nothing else to be done.
She's been forced to resign to hopelessness. It's not her fault. Why would anyone blame her for the things she couldn't change? She had gone farther than she wanted to go. She had stayed longer than she wanted to. Now she must pay for her sins.
"I know what to do." She forgot that Fr. Onyeka was still standing there. He just wouldn't push her against her will. It was time to let her be.
"Sister Mary, without the Lord it's in vain." His words were distinct.
She turned herself from him. Me? Sister? She mocked him. He probably would have chosen a more suitable title if he knew what she was. A rotten hypocrite! Cast a stone at her!
"Why me, mama?" she queried. "Why can't I be free to live my life by my rules? What does your God want from me?"
"Nothing. Nothing that you can give."
"So what am I doing here, Reverend? I had always known that confession was a waste of time." Mama's prayer was all for nothing too.
"My child, what I am asking from you isn't yours. And I don't mind waiting until you let go."
"This must be a joke, Reverend. Are you saying-”
Her anger rose and burnt within her. Who does this Reverend think he is to call me his child? She turned herself to face him. But he wasn't there.
Who had she been speaking to? Was she hallucinating? No. Mary knew too well that she wasn't. Fear gripped her. A voice laced with compassion had punctured her pride. She fought tears. But compassion was much stronger than the anger in her soul.
Mama had told her stories of people who heard from God. Did she just hear God's voice? Does he really care that much?
Oh yes, he does!
Written by Sir Chuks, The Polemicist.
"Through my fault. Through my fault. Through my most grievous fault"
It was just like always. As dry as ever. Same words. Same spot. Change they say is constant, and she knew best what change means for her. Confession didn't change anything.
"It's me again, God."
Maybe God was tired of hearing the same prayers from some good-for-nothing-girl. If there was a God, why would he even care to listen? She fingered every bead on her late mothers old chaplet. Hunted by the thought of Mama's ceaseless prayers, she muttered:
"It's me again. Nobody else"
"The Lord be merciful unto you", a male voice echoed from behind
She felt a hand on her weak shoulder. "So be it, father."
Reverend Father Onyeka had always assured her of Gods mercies. Did he really know what mess her life had been? Was he just doing his religious duties? Who cares?
No time to think about that now. Girl, time to leave. Mama must be smiling now.
Had she not made a promise to mama on her death bed, she'd never step foot into any cathedral. Confession time only brought her shame. She couldn't stand the pain of spitting out her own filth to anyone. She hated being exposed.
"Call upon me in the day of trouble, says the Lord." Rev. Fr. Onyeka was saying when Mary interrupted
"You won't understand father. Mama did, but..." She stopped herself. Not today. Her heart almost jumped out of her rib cage.
Fr. Onyeka could see the tears welling up in her eyes. But she managed to smile. Control yourself girl. You ain't gonna let nobody fool you about a loving God.
Mary was no atheist. She believed in the existence of God. Block rosary was one of her best days as a growing girl. But what has happened to her now?
"What happened to me?" she heard herself saying.
"Anything on your mind?", inquired Fr. Onyeka.
But Mary knew how to pretend to be doing fine even though her world was falling apart. "Nothing, Father." Or at least there's nothing else to be done.
She's been forced to resign to hopelessness. It's not her fault. Why would anyone blame her for the things she couldn't change? She had gone farther than she wanted to go. She had stayed longer than she wanted to. Now she must pay for her sins.
"I know what to do." She forgot that Fr. Onyeka was still standing there. He just wouldn't push her against her will. It was time to let her be.
"Sister Mary, without the Lord it's in vain." His words were distinct.
She turned herself from him. Me? Sister? She mocked him. He probably would have chosen a more suitable title if he knew what she was. A rotten hypocrite! Cast a stone at her!
"Why me, mama?" she queried. "Why can't I be free to live my life by my rules? What does your God want from me?"
"Nothing. Nothing that you can give."
"So what am I doing here, Reverend? I had always known that confession was a waste of time." Mama's prayer was all for nothing too.
"My child, what I am asking from you isn't yours. And I don't mind waiting until you let go."
"This must be a joke, Reverend. Are you saying-”
Her anger rose and burnt within her. Who does this Reverend think he is to call me his child? She turned herself to face him. But he wasn't there.
Who had she been speaking to? Was she hallucinating? No. Mary knew too well that she wasn't. Fear gripped her. A voice laced with compassion had punctured her pride. She fought tears. But compassion was much stronger than the anger in her soul.
Mama had told her stories of people who heard from God. Did she just hear God's voice? Does he really care that much?
Oh yes, he does!
Written by Sir Chuks, The Polemicist.
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