… I didn’t prepare to be a pastor’s wife, but some how I had to play the role and
look the part
Week two …
Bayo’s schedule become demanding. He went from one pastor’s conference to another. He sat for hours after work to prepare sermons and at night, he prayed for hours while I craved his touch …
Bayo suddenly became boring; He stopped drinking, clubbing, or listening to Nigerian secular music. These were the things I enjoyed doing with my adventurous Bayo but they were not my major disappointments. I was lonely …
Bayo was on call all the time. He had to handle one issue or the other and trust me, there was always an issue.
The church felt like a mistress that Bayo had abandoned me for. I honestly started detesting the church.
I felt terrible about how I felt because it didn’t make sense even to me.
Walking into church on Sundays required more inner strength than I was willing to admit. The expectations were overwhelming; I suddenly was expected to be a bible scholar, pray like a prayer warrior and have an edifying answer to the numerous questions that people posed to me.
Each time I took the announcements, I looked into the congregation hoping to find a friend, they all looked at me with reverence and when I tried to have a ‘normal ‘conversation after church, it was all too fake. All I heard were clichés; “God Bless You Ma”, “Glory !!! ”, “God is faithful Ma” …
I just wanted to have a normal conversation like everyone else!!! I wanted to discuss politics, fashion, children or even the weather!!!
As for Bayo, when I asked him normal questions that required simple answers, he graciously answered me like a Pastor.
I longed for more … more fun time with my husband. I told him anytime I had the chance to but promises were all I got.
One Sunday afternoon after church, I got a text message that changed everything. It read:
… to be Continued