Church in the village. It is always a different experience. Some weeks if I am honest it is hard for me to truly get fed because of different reasons. I can’t really understand the interpreter, I am so tired that being in a hot confined area I begin to fight sleeping instead of engaging in the service, or just plain and simple different cultures. Other times my soul is fed and I am taught so much by sitting either under a tree, in an open church with iron sheets as their roof, or a mud room, and I love worshipping with believers that worship so freely.
Today I was headed out to church with a team and it had been raining. I am now driving and I must say I have been owning the roads 🙂 I have even gotten stuck in mud and have successfully gotten myself out. I have been pretty impressed with my “mudding” skills. Today it had been raining and we were headed to Buwenda Church which is pretty deep down a so-called road. I made it to the turn off and after 10 attempts the car I was driving was refusing to let me maneuver without 4 wheel drive. I was just about to say, ” I don’t think we are going to be able to make it” when a guy from the village came up to my car and said, “you let me help”. What the heck? Let’s try…
We arrived at the church and I knew that there was a reason for us to make it through the impossible roads to be gathering with these people today. As we are worshipping I look outside and see a very old woman bent over trying to get the mud that was caked on her feet off with a piece of grass. She had a walking stick and she caught my eye because of how old she was, which is very rare here, and the fact that she couldn’t walk due to what seemed to be the mud that had weighed down her feet.
At this time I see some of the young children come into the church with a mat and place it in the corner of the church. I didn’t really think anything of it at that time. Then I look back over to the woman and she has finished cleaning her feet and was walking, but I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Her back was bent completely over still and I realized that she never was bending down, this was the way her back was. My heart broke into pieces as I watched her struggle into the church.
When she entered the church she found the mat. She got down on all fours and prayed. And prayed. And prayed some more. Then she sat back against the wall and worshiped.
As we moved into prayer time I captured a picture of a young girl praying with the sweet elderly women on the floor. From one generation to another-I felt the sermon spoken over me.
I had come into church walked in with no health issues, clean clothes, a full stomach, clean shoes because I had a car to travel in, and I didn’t fall to my knees and pray like the elderly woman who couldn’t stand up straight. I was humbled from a generation younger than me to a generation older than me.
It reminded me of one of the first blogs I wrote last summer and it took me back to the place of surrender.https://thisismyjoy.org/2011/06/14/learning-to-bend-low/
My sermon for the day- Humbled and convicted. I need to find myself bent low.
This is my Joy... 