Kwraa, Kwraa, Kwraa… went the sound of the knife as it cut through the Uziza leaves. The pot of Nsala soup went putu, putu, putu as it boiled on the Cooker. I dropped the knife, stirred the soup, dropped a little in the palm of my hand and tasted it for the upteempth time. I felt a bit unsure of the taste.
At that instant, my mind flashed back to one time in the University when I was really uncertain about something. We had travelled all the way from Enugu to Owerri to attend the Zonal Easter Conference of the Nigeria Fellowship of Evangelical Students.
It must have been that evening or maybe the next, the guest speaker (I can’t remember his name but he was huge, fair in complexion with full hair) said that God would be releasing the gift of prophecy to many people in the congregation that night. Silently, I wondered if I’d be amongst them.
We then began to pray and sing to the Lord and then I felt this tightening in my stomach, it was as though I had drank a bowl of cement mixture and on landing in my tummy, it solidified. Next, I felt my body vibrating internally as the power of the HolyGhost moved me. This was a much more gentle vibration, not like when someone is shocked by electric currents or struck by a thunderbolt.
Then, I felt like something was rising from my heart, through my throat and then out of mouth, like I just had to say something. OMG! I thought, what was happening here? I felt really unsure about what I was supposed to say.
Anyway, I heard my voice praying really loud, in a language that was not English, Igbo, French or other languages that I imagined I could speak. I was praying in tongues and then … the words came rolling out in English. I was prophesying… Wow!
I spoke so hesistantly, afraid of saying what the Lord did not say… ‘thus says the Lord’… I really can’t recall the other things I said. After that awesome experience, I would go on to prophesy during prayer meetings but I was usually unsure of myself when I started out.
As I grew in faith and in the understanding of God’s word, I became more certain that I would say the right things based on God’s Word and the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, so I spoke with so much ease and it just kept getting better.
I stirred the soup again, dropped a little in my hand and licked it up. The taste of the Uziza leaves did make a difference afterall. I was still a bit unsure though as I served it and I simply told my hubby ‘this is the worst Nsala soup I’ve made in a while.’
What a huge relief it was when he ate it and said it tasted really nice (hubby can cook and he doesn’t pay pretend compliments).
The End.
Picture courtesy of http://www.nigerianfoodtv.com
The Storytela 