Fog

A few of us sit here in the midst of the long night service. A long day of painting was followed by children’s service at 3:30 pm, and then we set up a new sound board and did some training. We came back tonight to oversee the first run of the system, and it is working great. A thousand voices in a-cappella drowns away the frustrations of the day. It empowers, and renews the spirit. These committed people are going to pray the night away. A praying church is a growing church, and this church is growing! Tonights topic was the third week in a study on faith. My adopted sister’s brother was teaching, and I was astounded. He began with a song and his deep voice carried over the PA system to the hungry faces of the congregation who in rapt attention began to sing with him. The harmony of their spirits is a most compelling and convicting symphony of worship. Then he commenced quoting scripture by memory for about 15 minutes straight. As Rob sat translating, and I watched the faces of the crowd, I marveled they could actually sit for teaching at 9:30 at night. They are packed in so tight, their legs and bodies literally intertwine. I think if someone jumped upright, ten other people would probably fall over. Beth and Lee stationed themselves on the stairs, and it was so packed that every time someone went up or down Beth had to stand. She said it was like musical chairs for the hour and a half we were there. There are really no words that can describe the long night service setting. The needs of these poor people are so great, the only hope they have is in God. At least their vision and understanding is clear. I still struggle with the fog of prosperity, and while I am fully aware of the financial needs represented in our country and the terrible struggle of many, I am also aware that the recourses we have are much more promising than anything these dear people will ever realize in their lifetimes. But they have riches we know nothing of, and they are of the spiritual kind. I would feel squeamish in trying to preach to them about faith. For goodness sake, I am harboring snacks in my tent, 10 inches from my knee, what kind of faith does that take. A little boy who had not come into children’s service attempted to force his way through the gate as the children were being dismissed and hastened out and home. I had to be very firm with this young violater to keep him from entering and stealing from another child. After the dust settled and the kids where gone, he showed back up, and I had to recognize his bravery. In spite of my stern reprimands to keep him at bay, he showed up by my side 30 minutes later begging for something. I remembered I had a couple snacks in my backpack, so I made haste and got him a couple. It was as if I had given him a hundred dollar bill. He was so grateful, I and felt bad for all those who didn’t make it into the Childrens’ service. We cared for 500 kids, and it was a taxing job this time around. So now I’m back the house, the day is done, and my eyelids are refusing cooperation to stay open and focused.  We gave everything we had covered with one coat of paint a second coat, and tomorrow, some of that will get a third coat. Time to rest for tonight. Greetings and blessings from St. Marc!