From the Girl That Kissed Satan

{I did remember that I left a story hanging so this is the continuation of An Eclipse Story: My First Experience with Blindness. Thanks for your patience. Here we go}


A few days to the end of May that year, I happened across a wild rumour that the sixth day of the next month would be the last day on Earth. Apparently, writing the figures for that day would be 6/6/6.

As it so happens, the figure, 666 represents the spiritual number of the mark of the beast explained in the book of Revelations. Simply put, Christ’s return date was stamped and sure.

I should have been happy, right? No. That information put me in serious depression. I remember the days as long and grey…never-ending. Why was I panicking?

First of all, I was a sinner! I was eight but at least I’d learnt that much from church. There was no way Jesus would be taking me with him when he came.

You see, most parents told their children then that the ground was the home of the devil while the sky was God’s. Therefore, any candy that fell to the floor belonged to him.

We were warned never to pick up our fallen candies or think of putting them back in our mouths. I get now that the instruction was to keep us healthy but then, whenever anybody’s candy fell, we would all gather around it, mourning silently but taking the initiative to hold unto our own “stick-sweets” tighter.

Fallen candies did not only belong to Satan but had been kissed by him too. Eating them again meant kissing Satan back. Our small minds did not know a greater blasphemy against God than that.

It kept us correct most times until it was a beloved or rare candy…then Chioma did not care…

A second reason for my depression was that I had lied the other day. And the day before. And the day before the day before… basically, I had lied almost every single day since I could remember.

My math was simple: The devil is the father of all liars. I am a liar. The devil is my father. There was no way Jesus would mistake me for his when he came, was there?

Then, there was the occasional meat taken from the pot when everyone was in their rooms too…

A fourth reason was that I was very picky with food. Usually, I gave them out in school when they were not to my liking or stealthily thrashed them if no one would have them.

My sins were endless. I had even looked up some two months back on the day of the eclipse, then gone blind. That was disobedience of another level!

I knew I had messed up big time but I did not know what to do about it or who to meet. The closer we got to the end of the world, the more I panicked and cried in secret on days I could not bear the thought of hell.

I begged Jesus to take me with him when he came irrespective of my sin and to manage me promising to be the good girl in heaven that I hadn’t been on earth.

I considered telling my mum about these sins but I shook that idea off for two reasons. I thought once she heard I had sold my soul to the devil for candy, she would be very disappointed.

There was also the possibility that she would whip the hell out of me. Pain vs Hell? Yep, I chose Hell.

There was also the thought that I wasn’t really sure she could help. Or anyone could for that matter. It was a signed deal already; a hopeless case. No need to break her heart earlier than possible.

Thus, I consoled myself: “Better for her to get to heaven first then when she searches for me, they’ll tell her I’m with the devil. The Angels would do the explanation there and I’d be far from ‘the look’ and ‘cane.”

I didn’t even discuss it with my friends. That’s how close-mouthed I could be. I did not want to be ostracized in school for being the devil’s child while they all made plans for heaven.

Finally, 06.06.06 came.

My first surprise was that I woke up that morning. I just stood up from my bed when mum called as usual. Second, that day was like every other one. My family were all still there, my friends were in school too. Nobody had left for heaven.

I kept my fingers crossed, waiting to hear the trumpet sound. My heartbeat was erratic throughout the day. Then, the school closed and home I went.

No trumpet, no darkening of the sky, no Jesus. The day simply ended. The next came and many other days. Slowly, as I accepted that Christ had postponed his coming, my happiness returned and with it, my repentance dissolved leaving me with my usual lifestyle of fun and disobedience.


When I think about that period, I wonder why I wasn’t made aware of the mercies of God. I remember learning a lot about sin, demons and curses but I definitely do not remember learning about the grace of God.

I remember learning about the power of God to destroy demons but not the same power to justify me or keep me from the power of sin.

The case I make tonight is simply on balance. I wish to be a balanced Christian, not neglecting the grooming of my children on the solid word of God.

These same kids are already singing along to Barbie songs. Of course, they are not too young to understand the scriptures.

When we teach about sin let’s not forget to showcase God’s mercy and grace. It’s the essence of the gospel. Man’s fallen nature helps to explain God’s nature better.

I love hearing from you💓, so don’t forget to comment.

Read the initial part of this story; An Eclipse Story, My First Experience with Blindness.

Hi, I'm Chioma Jeremiah. I'm passionate about helping my community see the beautiful light that each day brings. My goal is to inspire you with everything that will make each read the best for you.


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