The Bride of Christ
To the bride of Christ I pen this letter.
Aya Jesu
Nwanyi Chineke.
I see you wobbling your feet lazily.
Blissfully content with the comfort of this world.
Forgetting you were sent on an errand.
For this world remains a marketplace.
Aye.
A noisy place that resembles your home.
What have you bought, Iyawo?
What are you feeding your spirit that makes you forgetful?
Worldly pleasures have shrunk your pupils.
So much that you cannot recognize the closeness of His return.
What have you sold, Iyawo?
Which lives have you impacted upon?
What imprints have you made on your generation?
How many people have you told about your bridegroom?
You have told them; Right?
Informed them of His boundless love for all people.
Told them the testimonies of your deliverance from sin.
Showed them the evident peace that now reigns in your home;
And shared the way by which they can know Him.
I sincerely hope you are doing that now.
Else His wedding with you be called off.
For He spits out every believer that remains cold towards His commission.
Iyawo.
I wish your eyes could be opened.
To seeing the magnificent wedding plans He laid for you.
The location itself would leave you dumbfounded.
As He has decided to wed you in the grandest stage in Heaven.
Before the very eyes of all creations every created,
He will call you His own.
Your gown nko?
An exquisite material glistening with the rarest gemstones.
For you are His precious jewel of inestimable worth.
Your bridal train are already getting dressed *nne*.
Decked in holy apparels,
I must add.
Desperately praying that you do not soil your own gown.
For the bridegroom is holy and will come for a perfect bride.
Iyawo oo!!
Bashorun is already smelling the aroma of the feast being prepared.
The heavenly smell of venison.
The smell of yam pottage and jollof.
My ears detect the sound of pounding.
The aroma of *iyan*, *amala*, and 'gbo-gbo-ti-gbo' are just tantalizing my nostrils.
Ha!!
Thank God I still have the charge to write.
For I would be wishing to go home already.
As I am Kosilala.
The best friend to the food seller.
The husband to Amala and Ewedu.
And chairman at the congregation of rice.
To the bride of Christ, i write.
Your wedding date is almost at hand.
Your redeemer will come in a grand entrance.
Angels heralding His footsteps with trumpeting.
The earth trembling at His voice.
Coming to discard that engagement ring He gave you at the time of your confession.
Coming to adorn your fourth finger with a wedding ring.
Coming to take you home.
#BASHORUN
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