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Battle for my soul

 

Two men have chosen to be on my neck. They tell me of the things I need to look out for. I need the future but I don’t need their sermons.

The man of God and the man of cash are fighting for my soul.

“Son, you’ve wasted your life in sin. The time shall come and your soul shall burn in everlasting fire. Save your soul and give it to your creator,” explains Man of God.

“Youngman, you need to make use of your time. You need to exploit the opportunities around you.”

“Child, associate with people who will develop you spiritually. You need to surround yourself with people who have grown in Christ.”

“In your pursuit for having a brilliant future, you need to learn from the senior citizens that have crossed the road. You need mentors who will guide you; people who have gained experiences.”

 

I have one soul that is battling to create two self seekers a place in my life. Whenever there is a debate, they look forward to hosting me. I’m told of the everlasting wealth of milk and honey, much as I take neither. He relentlessly says I should be super cautious of my only life on earth. Lest I perish.

 

His brother confirms I need to travel abroad and get the heavenly contracts. They both never tire of castigating me for fearing to take risks. The big brother says I’m demon possessed. “Son, you’ve a spirit stopping you from taking the risk. We need to bind it the name…” My ears complain of ending every sentence with the cliché.

 

Before taking in the forced sermon, his brother bumps in with citations of the well crammed quotes whose author he definitely doesn’t remember. “Winners never quit and quitters never win. Champions always pass through the furnace, it takes courage to become a winner,” he goes on and on.

 

In the fellowship of words, testimonies of making money are generously shared. They speak sweetness, selling more words than the products. The gospel of Get-rich rubbed onto the ear-walls of hungry wealth well-wishers gets innovative by day. The sermon is well packaged and resolutely spiced with all the hate words of being employed. The words our ears hear, whispering hope to the hopeless, wiring and hiring thoughts of a few. He says, “This is the business of the century where you shop till you drop. Welcome to the world summit of the future successful. This is your chance to sign up and transform your life for life. You should not live in suffering when there is a solution. Just walk up here and sign-up.”

 

Dazed and dizzy with the sermons, ‘Mr. Preacherman’ goes on to convince me of the promises awaiting me should I give my soul. He says I should “freely receive the gift of eternity.” The one to which he has never been. “This is your day, brother, to become a new creation,” he tries to convince me. “The thirst of all your worries is going to be quenched. There is a new hope and a new life. I know there is a force holding you back but defeat the devil right now. With all heads bowed, I give you this opportunity; will you make a decision to change your life today?” I stand up to go to the front but instead walk out, tired.

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