Can These Bones Live? - Part 2

A period of time had lapsed since writing my inspired prose. I was still working and had actually secured a permanent contract as a clerical worker in a Local Social Services office. I was still caught up with life in the fast lane, going to parties, dances, drinking, smoking and getting in and out dead end relationships. I gave no further thought to my inspired writing until one day I was going home from work and for some unknown reason, decided to walk a different route from the usual one. As I walked along this little side street which led to the main road, I looked up and noticed a building on my right with writing on the front of it which said.....

"Seventh-Day Church of God"

What??? It took my mind back to the Ten Commandments that I had read some time ago, specifically the fourth one, "Remember the Sabbath day", which is on Saturday, the seventh day of the week. I was shocked and excited at the same time to find that such a church existed. As I continued walking home, my thoughts were absorbed with this experience and I planned to visit the church one day. But I wouldn't let anyone know, as I feared being ridiculed because my family were not Christians, neither did they even go to church except perhaps on Christmas days. I went to church as a child in Jamaica and was baptised at age 10, but I never understood anything about Christianity or had any interest in it. When I joined my mother in the UK at age 14, me and my siblings went to Sunday School sometimes, but we stopped going by the time I was 15 when I started getting heavily involved in music and dancing.

A couple of weeks after my discovery I got up on the Saturday morning, got ready and left the house under the pretext of going shopping. This was truly an adventure for me but felt anxious at the same time as I didn't know what to expect. When I got there, I could hear loud singing and music and it was clearly a Black congregation. I had never attended a Pentecostal church before so this would be a first experience. I nervously entered the building and sat near the door so I could make a fast exit if necessary. The preacher was loud and I didn't really get anything from his sermon so I left before the service ended and went shopping. The following week I decided not to go to church, but stayed in my bedroom (which I shared with my two sisters) and tried to read my Bible after everyone left to go shopping. I struggled to understand the Bible, particularly the language as it was a King James Version. However, I felt a keen interest in reading it and so I made an effort to try and make sense of it.

A couple of weeks passed and I attempted to visit that church again as it was the only Sabbath-keeping church I knew. On this occasion I asked my sister to go with me and she agreed. So I visited a second time, and when I got there, I again entered the building apprehensively. The church was full so I couldn't sit at the back as I planned. We had to go into one of the middle pews, which meant it was closer to the front. This made me nervous, particularly as the preacher was shouting about sin and the need for repentance, and afterwards started calling people to the front for baptism. I felt tempted to get up, but I was rooted to the seat. I could not move as I was really struggling with doubt and anxiety. After a few minutes of this, my sister and I looked at each other and we knew it was time to leave. We got up immediately, legged it out of the building and never went back.

For a while, I still maintained the interest in keeping the Sabbath, but I did not want to go back to that church. I stayed home on some Saturdays (while everyone went shopping) and read my Bible. This went on for a few weeks, but I eventually gave up as it was very difficult without a proper understanding about Sabbath keeping and I wasn't even a Christian. However, I could feel a change going on in me.

Little did I realise - this was only the start of my spiritual journey.