A Pastor's Daughter's Diary

Mob Saga

Dear Jesus,

I was too stressed from what happened in church yesterday evening to have written anything in my diary to you. It was so sudden, so unexpected.

So, we went to church as we would have on any other normal day. But upon getting there, we met a little mob in the parking lot. Placards and all.

Shouts and incoherent chants that bordered on them seeking to fish out the 'rapist' and let justice take its course rent the hot evening air.

People have time, like seriously.

Mr Faithful and Mr Bethel were trying to calm them down and talk to them. Pastor Henry too was there, but they were making no headway.

No one had yet noticed our presence cos Dad slowed down and stopped some meters away from the center of the mob.

"Dad, please don't get off the car," I said.

I was seeing the mist of darkness rising from the mob with my spiritual eyes. It was coming off them like smoke off fire.

Plus, it looked like the wisest advice at the moment. Those angry people looked set to tear their target to shreds.

Mom took her phone and called Mrs Carey to ask about what was going on.
Mrs Carey said they must have somehow gotten info that a service was to be held tonight. That they just showed up unexpectedly.

She even said that she had had to disconnect the church phone lines because they were about to ring off the hook with people calling and demanding to speak with the General Overseer, meaning my already overwhelmed Dad.

She added that it would be best if we go back home rather than venture headlong into danger.

Mom passed the message across to Dad. Dad asked to speak with Mrs Carey.

He assured her everything would be fine and that she shouldn't panic. Maybe her voice was trembling a little. Poor Mrs Carey! It must have come as a shocker to this sweet widow.

Dad, being a faithful shepherd over his flock, insisted that the service must hold, come rain come sunshine.

After confirming from her that no one had been physically assaulted, he told her to send a quick message to all the trusted ministers and workers to meet in thirty minutes at our house for the service.

House fellowship leaders were also contacted and asked to hold the service at their various locations. It was impromptu but at least it worked.

As fast and quietly as could be managed, Dad stealthily turned the car around and zoomed out of the church premises.

Unfortunately, one can't tiptoe with a vehicle. The car's engine sounded and that was when a few protesters noticed us (I saw that from the rear mirror and heard their shouting voices demanding for the car to stop) but it was too late for them to do anything.
Phew! It was a narrow escape.

We drove back home in silence. Each one of us was lost in our own thoughts and contemplations.

I was jokingly praying that we won't find a throng of people by our gate and splattered all over our house's wall like geckos.

We didn't. I almost sighed out in relief at that. I stifled it in cos it would have seemed weird if I didn't have a congent reason for my sighing spree.
And I didn't want to magnify the tension. Dad and Mom had much on their minds as it were.

Thirty-five minutes later, eight ministers were seated in our living room, talking in hushed tones amidst themselves. They all looked worried and concerned. But at least their coming was a sign of allegiance.