Time for Church

It is Sunday morning and I have been awake for half the night. It is also cold and raining. It is one of those mornings you want to pull up the covers and sleep; if only I could sleep. Since Jiajing’s mom is not here to go to church with me and Jiajing’s dad is working, no one would know if I didn’t go except God and me. Besides, the whole service is in Mandarin and I only know about six words in Mandarin. But I got up, ate some breakfast, and went out in the rain with my umbrella to catch the bus. I was about twenty seconds too late and it would be about twenty minutes before the next one would come. Another bus came along, which I thought went near the church, so I got on. After a short while we turned and I knew that I would be a very large city block from where the other bus would have taken me. I get off and walk for fifteen minutes in the rain and finally get to church a little late. The picture below is an old one, taken on a day other than Sunday

I have done a lot of teaching at the church over the last three years and being the only white person there that morning causes me to really stand out. As I walked in, Joy, one of the church pastors and my interpreter when I teach, also noticed me. Whenever she is up front reading the scriptures and I am there she always gives the reference in English so I can follow along in my Bible. She was up front that morning. Since she reads a verse and then the congregation the next, it is easy to follow along in my English Bible.

It was time for the choir to sing, but this morning it was only ten women. Usually I have my camera with me and go up near the front and video it, but today I was too lazy to carry it with me, along with my Bible and Chinese English hymn book I manage to find. Once the women started to sing, I deeply regretted not having my camera. What they sang was so beautiful and so worshipful it brought tears to my eyes. They were like angels singing that morning and a real contrast to cold rain falling on the roof of the sanctuary.

When prayer is offered from the front, I am attentive and believe I am united with them in spirit and thus am praying with them. Even though I don’t understand the language, when I leave I feel that I have worshiped God and that my time spent there was worthwhile.

The most difficult part for me is the hour sermon. When the family of nine girls and one boy worshipped there, one of the girls would write an outline of the sermon, which I found to be very beneficial. Unfortunately they moved and go to a different church across the river from where I live.

My feet were soaking wet, so I decided to walk the thirty minutes home through the back alleys and check out all the old eating and shopping places. I finally got home and laid down for twenty minutes to wait for lunch time. I decided to put my wet socks and shoes back on and walk in the cold rain for another ten minutes and get a bowl of hot rice chicken soup and a serving of my favorite dumplings. The menu is in Chinese, but as long as they don’t change it I can order what I want by pointing to right spots on the menu. Ah, what a great meal! Back out in the cold rain for a walk home and a nice nap.

Jiajing’s dad came home during the afternoon from work and prepared a wonderful meal of veggies and fish. We had a good time together, eating and trying to communicate the best we could. Despite the physical discomforts of the day, it was still a great day. I am very glad I didn’t skip church. What would you have done?