This morning I went to the early service at First Methodist. After three days Stateside, I was pretty much prepared for the onslaught of old ladies asking me how my “trip” had been. I could, however, already feel myself slipping into laziness and responding that it was “good,” which I have since been making an effort to fix. I’d rather someone “glaze over” than I waste an opportunity to talk about the last three months.
I would say it was a fairly normal service, except that for me, when Mike finished preaching and the service suddenly started to end at 9:20, I looked at my phone like “You can’t be serious.” After three months of hour-long or two-hour-long sermons, even at Gringo church, I was just getting going. And the sermon was on Matthew 15:21-28 when the woman begs for Mercy from Jesus and he ends up admiring her faith. I, of course, took something totally different out of it than was intended or than probably anyone else got, but it was the beginning of a learning experience that lasted all day.
After that I went to play for the “munchkins.” Turned out only three of them were there (though one of them was Christopher Alexander, so I got to meet him). I mostly just talked about Ecuador for the benefit of Dianna) and played a couple songs. Davis and Taylor sang enough to humor me, but I was glad to see them all and in one of the best moods I’ve been in when I headed off to Burger King in my usual avoidance of going to any of the Sunday School classes in which I just don’t fit.
There I got a blatant example of how useful my time in South America has been on simply a surface level. There was a Spanish-speaking couple in line behind me, and the girl at the counter was speaking loud and slow, trying to explain to them what time breakfast ended in a language they didn’t understand and as if they were stupid. I feel like “desayuno por vente minutos mas” is a phrase I would have been able to spit out in April, but actually have the confidence to do so now (at least without someone fluent in both languages standing around and able to tell me how idiotic I sound).
Having left FUMC and having heard the sermon already, I decided to go to the 11:00 service at First Baptist. I’d already made up my mind to go to church later anyway because I am so often lazy and only go to a service if I am a part of it: playing guitar or some other instrument, preaching, running the sound system, etc. In the Methodist church all the vows always include our support through “our prayers, our presence, our gifts, and our service.” I’ve been nailing the last two for quite a while, and I wanted to go to a worship service and worship and for once through the rest.
Granted I got there and Billy commandeered me to play guitar for a hymn, but I didn’t plug in and most people probably couldn’t hear me, which was fine. And, maybe because I was simply aware of it this morning, or maybe because God was actually directly teaching me something, I just kept getting slammed all service long.
Steve’s Invocation was a thank-you to God for interrupting us, and the opening hymn was “The Solid Rock,” something to which I’ve absolutely had to cling for the last half a week (or summer, for that matter). The choir’s anthem was “Give Me Jesus,” and though I like the Jeremy Camp version better, the words are the same and seriously… after over three days Stateside I’d like a T-shirt that says “You can have all this world. Give Me Jesus.”
But wait, there’s more. Mason’s sermon, “Behind the Scenes” just kept hitting me too. It was about faith, and it ended with us singing my absolutele favorite hymn of all time, “It Is Well With My Soul.”
The rest of the day, I got to hang out with Megan and get ice cream, I went to the recorder ensemble at FBC (there’s a method to my madness, just wait), praise band/the Celebration! service at FBC (another message on faith and the opportunity to rock out), and Ruby Tuesday’s and the Stevens’ house with most of the Christ Episcopal Ecuador Team to play the cup game and look at photos.
I’m not necessarily glad to not be in Ecuador at this point, but rather than feeling stuck in North Carolina now, I feel home.
Welcome Home Cuz.
(((((Glad your back))))))
I love reading your blogs and hearing your mind, Danny. I teared up a few times thinking about how much you’ve grown, how much fun we’ve had, and how you’re taking it all home. Love you dear.