VESSELS OF WAR

CHAPTER SEVEN

For two hours, we were still vibrating in prayers. Incessant knocks kept coming, yet we ignored it.

         "Jacob! Enough!" My fathers voice yelled from door. "People are waiting and we have to pray for them."

I almost ignored him, except that the Holy spirit reminded me of the souls that needed to be saved, I gave in to his calls. As unusual as it might be, I asked Bro Bolanle if he could stay through my session with me.

He simply nodded, still groaning in the spirit. When the door opened, I came face to face with my father's very angry face. I stood there, head bowed, eyes averted. He shoved his hands in both pocket and drew in a very long breath before he exhaled and cleared his voice.

"We have work!"

I simply nodded, refusing to complain or argue.

Seemingly satisfied with my silence, he walked away, muttering words that were incomprehensible.

Bro Bolanle and I rounded off our prayers quickly before I began taking clients. Even though he sat there listening in to the counseling session, I could feel the energy of prayer coming from him.

In many moments, I stole a glance at him and wished I could just tell everyone to reschedule for another day because something about the way this brother prayed was drawing my spirit to it.

I breezed through many sessions and before I knew it, I was already done and decided to call it a day.

That didn't end there because my hunger for prayer continued get deeper, so I joined the brother that'd been praying all along.

We gave it another hour of intense spiritual channelling before I got some form of boldness to visit my father so we could revisit our previous conversation. Plus that the woman with him gave me a very un-Christian vibes.

Nothing about her presence had the intricate factors of being one's spiritual adviser, because even in my fearful moments, I couldn't gauge her spiritual level.

I walked Bro Bolanle to the staff quarters after which I made my way back to my father's office.

His emergency spiritual adviser was still there, talking in no low tones. Matter of fact, it sounded as though she was furious with him. As if he was a toddler being scolded by his mom.

"You can't run from your responsibilities!" Her voice echoed with so much authority that I found myself shivering for a second.

"You must complete the mission!" Her firm low grade voice boomed through the closed door where I was now eavesdropping from.

"I....I...," A weak sigh followed and the I heard a muffled whimper. "I'm doing my best."

"Your best isn't enough!" The same voice sharply retorted. "Can't you see that Krushana is burrowing into our hard work of many years, A network we've built for a long time? Threatening all the time spent gathering our flock and watering them?"

"But you already have the church, what else do you want me to do?" My father's exhausted voice wafted through the door. "I'm so lost that I no longer know what to do!"

"Jesus!" I heard myself gasp. It was as though I was hearing the voice of another person. "Was this still my firebrand, tongue kabashing, no nonsense father? The same one demons trembled when he prayed?"

My voiceless thoughts were still rummaging in my mind when the door swiftly opened and my father walked out.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his shocked gaze swiftly swept the hall way.