Page 66 - Obruni In Ghana | Amber Lockridge

64 EPISODE 8: MY CHURCH
robed and jeweled, singing my heart out in several languages with my fellow African choristers. Yet, I am neither a part of the congregation nor do I consider myself to be a Christian. I’ve done nothing to enlighten my church members on this information although I have repressed a few urges to stand up and exclaim dryly “Yes, I am going to hell. Thank you, I am Satan’s minion”.
On the whole, I’m sure I appear very devout. I’ve learned how to close my eyes at the appropriate time and wrinkle my brows in approved concentration. I can sway and move my lips rapidly, emitting a variety of sighs and exclamations as I am so moved. “Hallelujah” form the pastor deserves an “Amen” from myself and my sister on the left. I dance up the aisle to the collection plate in grand style and have adopted an upward gaze while singing in praise of Jesus. In fact, I doubt sincerely that anyone would guess at the extent of nothingness that is actually occurring in my brain at these times. My most recurrent thought is “I’m tired. When can I go