If you’re looking to develop your prayer life, here are some tips. They worked for me and I hope they work for you too.
First off, you need to stop thinking of prayer as a straight-laced, military-regimented kind of exercise. Open your mind to God, see it instead as a conversation with your Maker, the One who owns the Universe, talk to God as you would a close friend and then, just flow. Tell him anything and everything.
Second, I believe it essential for you to know yourself and know your limit. A friend once told me of how she wanted to get serious with her prayer life and decided to go an hour a day. It didn’t work out eventually. You should know your limit, if you’re not a person who is used to prayer. Start small, maybe 15 minutes a day, then gradually increase your prayer time as you get better. I started with an hour a week, gradually I increased to 30 minutes a day, then 45 minutes a day and on and on. Prayer is a gradual process. Do not neglect the process.
Fellowship with the Holy Spirit is also key to enjoying prayer time. When the Spirit communes with you often (and this can take on several forms) you’ll find yourself looking forward to prayer time just to enjoy those blessed moments with Him.
Finally, I’ll suggest that you get a prayer partner. Someone who you’re comfortable with who can pray for you and you can also pray for, or you could even join a prayer group.
Try these tips and if you notice an improvement in your prayer life don’t hesitate to share your testimony with me.
Feel free to comment other healthy tips to growing your prayer life, I’d love to hear from you.
Don’t hesitate to shar if this post has blessed you, you never know who could be in need of it.
Its Tuesday evening.
I cringed as another crashing sound came from upstairs.
The Slave Master has been at it for close to 20 minutes now.
He stormed into the house and went upstairs without so much of a glance in my direction—not that it bothered me or anything—his personal aides had followed him in, dropped his stuff off in his study and made their exit immediately. Then it started, different crashing and breaking sounds came from his room intermittently, each one causing me to jump in fear.
What could be wrong with the Slave Master?
The sound of household furniture that had just met its demise met my ears once again.
I sighed as I stood up from where I was perched on the couch.
Shaking my head as I thought to myself ‘I can’t take this anymore’ I marched up the stairs.
I paused at the landing that led to his room and I remembered how the Slave Master had categorically warned me not to set foot into his room. I hesitated as I realised just how foolish a step I was about to take. The Slave Master was usually very ill-tempered on his good days, and today was apparently a bad day for him. Was it really in my place to get him to stop this temper tantrum of his?
The sound of something breaking not too far away from me pulled me out of my reverie and made up my mind for me. I marched forward to the Slave Master’s room.
The door was open and right in front of it lay the carcass of a dead Samsung phone.
I took a deep breath before pushing the door open, the sound of my entry made the Slave Master pause from where he stood and he turned to look at me, lowering his arm which held a bedside lamp that he was probably about to fling out of the window.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in his dead and emotionless voice.
I had not been expecting that question.
What exactly was I doing here?
I thought I already decided that it wasn’t in my place to get him to stop his temper tantrum?
How had my brain forgotten to process this information to the rest of my body?
“Are you deaf?” he bellowed, causing me to shrink back from where I stood in terror.
I cleared my throat “Um…”
I cleared my throat again, it seemed as though all my words were stuck there and my brain wasn’t even making an effort to want to function at all.
I don’t know for how long I stood there, standing like a fool, probably with my mouth hanging open because the Slave Master suddenly burst out laughing.
I just kept staring, and he kept laughing. As in, actual laughter and not the usual humourless and dead laughter I was used to from him. He doubled over and wiped his eye and looked up at me and burst into another fit of hysteria.
That was when I shut my mouth.
He was probably laughing at me and how foolish I looked. Scratch the probably part. He was laughing at me and how foolish I looked.
“What’s so funny?” I finally found my voice when he was done.
“Oh God! You should have seen the look on your face”
I sighed and looked around the room. Everything was a mess. The beside table lay in a broken heap, clothes were strewn all over the place, the full length dressing mirror lay in broken shards on the floor, and that was just the little I could see from where I stood at the door.
“Why don’t we go outside for a bit” I said looking up at the Slave Master who had been staring at me as I carried out my inspection on his room.
He obliged and followed me downstairs.
“I take it you’re in a bad mood” said I.
“How did you manage to figure that out?” he asked sarcastically.
“You know what you need?” I asked, ignoring his stupid comment.
“What?” he asked.
“Puff puff, puff puff always makes everything better. Where are your car keys? I know a place nearby that has the best puff puff” I replied.
“Are you kidding me?” he asked with his most serious straight face.
“Nope, I’m dead serious”
The Slave Master sighed then shrugged and ushered me outside.
Yay! We’re going to get puff puff!!!
EXP #1 has been made easier to read. In all installments, along with the authors note, there are navigation pointers attached to guide you to either the previous post (which has << inserted before the attached links) or the next post (which has >> before the attached link). To get other installments of EXP #1 search for the category EXP #1 in the search box and this will bring out all EXP #1 posts in the order of newest to oldest.
Brino” Bruno said to me through the phone later that night.
“Stop disturbing me I want to sleep” I told him, hoping my tone was nasty enough to put him off. He’d been calling me non-stop since I hung up on him earlier today when he told me that he’d not been able to get anything tangible off the Slave Master’s computer, causing me to have an asthma attack in vain.
“Brino I’m sorry” he said.
“Is that all? Can I go to bed now?” I snapped.
“No” he said.
“What else?” I asked impatiently.
“Did you see Walter today?”
“What do you mean ‘Did I see Walter?’ How would I be able to see Walter, I’m locked up in this place all day” I was already annoyed.
“I saw him at the Slave Master’s house” Bruno said.
“What?” all my previous emotions were replaced by curiosity.
“Yeah, he came in as I was leaving, at first I wasn’t sure it was him, but one of the men greeted him and called his name, confirming my suspicion”
“What was Walter doing here?” I asked nonplussed.
“I don’t know. That’s why I called to ask if you saw him”
“No, I didn’t” I said to him as my head started spinning in different directions.
Walter was part of the den of thieves I used to move with before I met Bruno. He was Idris’ right-hand man; just like he’d found me and took me in, Idris had done same for Walter years before he met me and they were totally inseparable. You know how people say no smoke without fire? Well, Walter was the smoke to Idris’ fire.
I sat on my bed and sighed into the phone.
What business did Walter have with the Slave Master?
Did Idris know of Walter’s business with the Slave Master?
My head was a tangle of jumbled thoughts as I thought back to the last time I’d seen Walter, it was at a party nearly 2 months ago, a party Bruno had advised me not to go to. When I first saw him, I turned in the other direction hoping he hadn’t seen me, later events of the night had proven otherwise as Walter and a bunch of my other old friends had come up to me, we started talking and one thing led to another, he eventually dared me to steal a car; the car that landed me in my current situation if I might add.
“Brino, Brino, are you still there?” Bruno asked.
“Yeah” I replied slowly as I surfaced from the sea of my thoughts “Yeah, I’m here. I was just thinking of the last time I saw Walter”
“He dared me to steal a car” I replied simply.
“Oh” Bruno said “… wait… you don’t mean…”
I could practically see the wheels spinning in his head so I kept quiet.
“You don’t mean that car. The Slave Master’s car? Right?”
I sighed into the phone giving him his answer.
“Coincidence much?” I finally said with a humourless laugh.
“Could it be a coincidence? Really?” Bruno voiced out my very thoughts.
The person who had dared me to a steal car, ended up in the house of the very person who owned the car I stole, while I was on house arrest there. What were the odds of that?
“It has to be a co-incidence” I said into the phone with doubt injected heavy into my words “it just has to be. Walter dared me to break into any car I wanted, it was a full parking lot and he wouldn’t have known the car I’d pick.”
My head was spinning wildly; I could feel my brain overheating already. I analysed everything from that night up to the present moment. Nothing was making sense.
I heard Bruno sigh into the phone moments later, as I recalled events that had taken place today and I was tempted to tell Bruno of the deal I made with the Slave Master just this evening, the only thing that stopped me was the statement the Slave Master made after I shook his hand.
“One more thing” he’d said through his devilish smile.
I blinked ‘what?’
“No one, no one at all must find out about this. Understood?”
I nodded yes.
“Alright, good night” at that he shifted his chair and left me alone in the dinning room.
“Bruno I’m tired” I said into the phone at last.
“Yeah, me too” he sighed “good night”
Lemme just drop this.
*closes eyes and takes a deep breath*
My blog has been inactive for 2 months now. I had to take an exam this past month and I feel that’s excuse enough for being offline.
But in all honesty I’ve been running. I’ve been playing Jonah with my writing. I was having a conversation with someone early this year and we got to my writing and the person told me something along the lines of ‘what is the point of writing if you’re not writing for God?’ After May, I felt the urge to make my blog a Christian blog and I started running. Writing became a huge challenge because it meant I won’t just close my eyes and whip something up from the depths of my imagination whenever I wanted to post; it meant I’d have to ask the Holy Spirit for help and wait for him to answer and give me the go-ahead. And sometimes it feels like I can do without God (I can’t BTW) Like why do I need his help when it comes to writing? This is like my thing; why should I ask for help? Why do I need monitoring? Why do I need to ask permission? And so on and so forth.
So it began. I started playing Jonah sometime in July, posting sporadically. A friend of mine told me that my posts were losing their buzz, what was happening to me? I was thoroughly discouraged and I kept on playing Jonah. I explained the whole situation to another friend and he told me ‘Best to write by the leading of the Spirit and touch one person’s life than for everyone to praise my posts and there’s no difference.’ His words were such an encouragement but I still kept playing Jonah.
I didn’t want to share my struggles on my blog and it’s like God wanted me to do the very thing I didn’t want to do. So as usual, when my will clashes with his, nothing works out till his will is done.
So here I am back from my hiatus (I love that word). I’m done playing Jonah. It’s time to let go. Jesus take the wheel, Im’ma be in the back seat from now on. Writing this, the heavy burden that has been on my chest–which prevented me from doing what I love for over 2 months– has been lifted.
Piece of advice: Don’t resist the will of God, it’s futile (I learnt from experience)
So… I’m back!!!
Who missed me?
👑 Àyànfé Oba (the King’s Beloved)
Happy New Month.
Happy Independence Day to all Nigerians.
God bless Nigeria.
I am beyond sorry for your loss. Words can’t express how deeply sorry I am. Receiving your letter was both shocking and exciting, but the message within really broke my heart.
I know he was a really good guy from the way you described him and I know you loved him very much. I wish I was there to comfort you, but I know Holy Spirit is the greatest comforter and He’ll do that for me.
I can remember when you broke up with me, I felt like I’d never get over you, but I did. Time heals all wounds Ugo, give yourself time to heal.
I know that God is in control even though it doesn’t seem so and this is the best time to go to him because he loves you and he cares about you. Go to God the same way you wrote your last letter to me, go to Him like a long lost friend and lover and tell him all about your grief. We can never know why Bolupe died. God’s ways are unsearchable, you know how he says in Isaiah 55 that his ways aren’t our ways and his thoughts aren’t like ours. All I know is that He can mend your broken heart and fix you back up, He’ll even make you better than you were before if you make Him the love of your life. Hold unto God’s promises for you in the Bible and I am certain that everything is going to work out for your good.
At least you have a consolation that Bolupe is with Jesus in Heaven, he’s probably rejoicing and singing with the angels serving God for ever and ever. I see no reason why you should let his death hold you back from serving God when that is what he now does 24/7. What do you think Bolupe will want you to do at this point?
Isaiah 55:8-9 KJV
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord .  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.
Not everything in life will go in the way that we originally planned. There’s someone up there who controls everything that goes on down here and He has said that His ways are higher than ours. Stop trying to make things work when they don’t want to work, God sees everything and he’s in absolute control. Sit back, relax and let him take the wheel. His plans for you are always better than those you have for yourself.
Exactly a hundred days ago Bolupe died.
I can’t even think properly.
Aina, I’ve been stuck in limbo ever since. Bolupe was my… everything. My teacher, friend, confidante, my brother, my boyfriend, inspiration, mentor, my muse…
Aina, I don’t know how it happened, he was alive and well in the morning, he’d just shared with me the theme he’d gotten from his quiet time that morning. He’d read John 6 and you know how I’ve been struggling in my spiritual life, he told me of how Jesus had called himself the bread of life and how we are to eat him to have life, and I asked him “How can we eat Jesus?” and he answered simply, by reading his word day and night, and not just reading, but meditating also, by fellowshiping with him. His memory verse that morning was verse 63 of that chapter
It is the Spirit that gives life, the flesh profits nothing, the words I speak to you are Spirit and they are life.
My tears just stained the paper, I’m sorry Aina, you’ll receive a tear-stained letter. He forced me to memorise the verse before leaving for the office.
I remember everything else vividly, I checked the time before picking up the phone call from an unknown number, it was 5 minutes past 2 in the afternoon. The person on the other end said that they’d seen my card in someone’s wallet and the person was fighting for dear life in the hospital.
Remembering everything is so painful. It’s like it all happened yesterday, the pain is so raw, I don’t feel like I’ll ever get over it.
Where was God? Aina where was God when death came and snatched my beloved? If anyone deserved death, it wasn’t Bolupe, he was too good. Is God meant to be this unfair? I’m tired at this point, I’m tired of even trying to have a relationship with Him, I’m tired of trying to pray, I’m tired of trying to be happy. I don’t think I can ever be happy in life again in fact. I think that was why my mum advised me to write to you.
Although this letter is written with tonnes of pain and sorrow from a heavy heart, I hope it meets you well,
Guess which lazy blogger decided to post tonight?
Hint: you’re reading her blog.