My Visit Continued....

www.destinyrestored.com
I have been to the Synagogue. This is an experience that one cannot easily forget for several reasons.
Foremost. the throng of people. The misery in their faces, the expectation, the desperation. I am talking of a living mass of people, each one bent on being positioned where they think they would stand the best chance of being met by either one of the Wise men or the Prophet himself. Imagine the challenge this poses. Here, coming by invitation is so  invaluable. For the invitees, they get picked up by special  coaches at the airport. Air conditioned coaches.  By the way, Lagos is hot. Very humid, 28C with humidity at 78% and above is no joke. 

I spoke of the throng of people. These are not people that were there for a party.  These were desperate people. Many have ailments lasting more than a decade. There is just this one life to live, living a day in pain can be a challenge. Imagine passing 3650 days in pain. Say a cancerous wound. Any sickness at all. In that condition, anyone will be desperate.

Remember, these people in most cases have had  to find their way to the Synagogue sometimes by road from thousands of kilometers away. People come by road from  even as far away as Sudan , Ethiopia, Mali and the Gambia. Not to mention neighbouring countries like Ghana, Ivory Coast and the Cameroon. Then there are the south Africans, Kenyans, Malawian, etc.

These people come. One sharp desire. TO BE HEALED. Many have gone through hospitals and herbal homes, no cure. We are talking of thousands of people.  20, 30 thousands in any given service day.

I have been to the  Synagogue.

I went without invitation. I had to go without invitation as I couldn't wait for my application for an invitation to come through. I went. Landed in Lagos. The trip from the Airport to the Synagogue took 4 hours 35 minutes. Price NGN 5000. Distance should  be about 20 Kilometres. Imagine a a tram in that place, It will be like flying in a Jet from London to Birmingham. Circa 9/10 minutes.
Anyway I landed in Lagos. It was like landing in a foreign country. Motorbikes everywhere, like gnats. It was dusty. I sweat. The first real sweat since i left the continent decades ago. But for the enormous stress in my life, the stress that brought me to Lagos, I might have relished the sweat.

Next comes the battle of where to stay. I haven't communicated with any OF MY acquittance in Lagos for ages.  With the aid of the Policemen at the Synagogue, some people introduced me to a hotel about 500 meters from the Synagogue. Price; NGN 3000. I arrived on a Wednesday evening. Thursday happened to be my target. The prayer line on that Thursday   After spending about 6 months seeing video after video on emmanuel.tv, all I could think of was to get myself on the prayer line. I got a shock though as getting on the prayer line was strictly by invitation. Aside of emergency cases.   I was devastated. I wept. I really wept.

That Thursday. I woke up around 1.00am, Got to the church a few minutes later. All the morning I hustled and jostled from one group to another, trying my best possible to get myself registered for the prayer line at all cost. No luck. One very strange thing though. I wasn't loaded with cash. However people kept asking me for money. Women. After a while I kind of smell them afar, before they get to me, I change position. I wasn't loaded. The money I drew out of the machine was disappearing fast. Still 6 days to spend in Lagos. About 4.00pm, I started back to the hotel. All hope of getting into the prayer line was lost. And then...., and then...., as I got to the main auditorium area, I saw an unmanned door. I  didn't think, I went in directly.  Saw a group in a section. I went to them and took an empty seat. Barely 5 minutes later, Some ushers came and moved everyone there to another part of the auditorium, close to the prayer line area. We were there for about 10 minutes, and then they came for us again. Prayer line direct.  It was an eerie feeling of joy. I made it. I Michael. I made it. I am delivered.

But there remained a snag. I hadn't anything to show the Wise men as my trouble. Everyone had a piece of paper where their issue was written. I had only some literature with me. But I came prepared. I had a marker with me. So I hastily, privily wrote on the back cover of the literature what ails me. And then one of the ushers accosted me and asked me; what is written in that paper sir?  The ushers. I think they are all ETs anyway.  They sort of see through you. She chastised me to avoid causing confusion and that I should put it away otherwise....

I put away my paper and the laying of hands by the Wise men started. My man was Wise man Daniel. The first to get to me. He touched my chest. I meant he touched. But what happened to me in reality was like the force of a sledge hammer at a very close range. Some sound came out of me, forcibly when that hand hit me.
I fell like a log, Some ushers took me up, and again he touched me again and again it was the same force - sledge hammer blow. Down I went again. The ushers got me up again. The third touch was humanly. And then all the other Wise men , beside Wise man Christopher touched me. No more falling like a log.

I went back to the hotel a new man.

There is one thing about the ministry though. One big albeit little appreciated for now. The saying goes that charity begins at home. Yes, More than charity begins at home really. The way this ministry is reconciling families, so too it is reconciling the differences between the adherents of the two dominant religions in Nigeria. Christianity and Islam.

The reconciliation comes through 2 different fronts. Both equally effective. Meaning, the Prophetic and Healing ministry as well as the Giving Ministry via Emmanuel TV.

The Prophetic and Healing ministry brings together  people from all the regions of Nigeria. No exception. The Hausa and the Ibos, the Yorubas and the Fulanis, etc. At the Synagogue, everyone is a brother and a sister to their neighbour  When they leave, the part of them that harbours mistrust is discarded. A Muslim who has gotten delivered from one affliction or the other, he/she is unlikely to burn, loot or kill a Christian living in his/her community afterwards. Neither will a Christian who has been to the Synagogue be inclined to burn, loot and kill a Muslim in his/her community sometime down the road.    It is awesome. And this is not unique to the Nigerian situation alone. It is now affecting the whole continent as a whole. South Africans, Ghanaian,  Malawians, Kenyans, Sudanese, Maliens, just name it. Everyone meets at the Synagogue. The fear, the myth, the angst each one has for the other is being replaced with something else borne of the fruit of camaraderie in the face of common challenges. Challenges that are being met. Effectively and efficiently dealt with at the Synagogue, either via prophesy, deliverance, reconciliation, healing, blessing, breakthrough, hope, fulfilment, or via the giving ministry. 

I have been to the Synagogue. Unlike people that stands far away, or should i say - unlike people that hide far away, behind the cloak of anonymity that the web guarantees, - people who stands far away and throws stones at the glass house. I have been there. What these people are saying are nothing but bollocks. Just bollocks.

Look. we talk of grace, yes, some people after visiting the Synagogue,  their health or financial situation goes through an instant and dramatic transformation. Yes, transformations that are beyond their expectation. However, some class of people  whose situation may transcend the need for instant transformation, whose need are better met when they participate actively with faith, may experience some lag. Yes,  what they want is fish, braisée. What is in stock for them is a pond. A fishing pond. But they have to build the pond. hatch the eggs, raise them, then harvest, not one but millions of fish. But because what they were looking for is a fish braisée. ready to go et la carte. It may take them a while to realize that they need to start fish farming.

This interlude may be a very trying time. I am going through one myself. So I know what it is like.

TBC. Continuation at www.destinyrestored.com