We have decided this next year to travel around to some of the different churches in Lichinga. Tim would like to build relationships with the pastors and also "advertise" for the Bible school and "recruit" students. So this past Sunday we attended a Church called Igreja Bem Adventurada de Lichinga or the Well Adventured Church of Lichinga. Interesting name, I think. As we sat down and the service had not yet begun, I was thinking about how much I was dreading another church service. I kept thinking about how different church is here from in the States, especially with our home assignment coming up, it was on my mind. The no backed hard benches, which are uneven and if you move too much one direction or another will tip over(yes we've done that before). The 3-5 hour services, that you have sit on those hard benches for. The dirt floors that Jurnee loves to roll around on and every time something falls off the tippy benches, ends up in pile of dirt. The dirty foot prints all over me, as I pick up Jurnee. Kids running up and down the aisles playing tag (literally) because there is no children's programs. The screaming babies. The different languages and accents where you understand only half of what was being said and that is if you can concentrate or hear, which is rarely the case, between the babies, kids playing tag, and my own children complaining about being bored, hungry, or in Jurnee's case tired. So, as I am wallowing in self pity, the service begins only about 10 minutes late, I can hardly believe it. As the service began and continued, I realized how wrong I was. It was one of the best services I have been to here. The singing was incredible. The congregation was only about 35, but they sang and danced like they were 500. They were so full of joy. The guy who preached was from Beira, a city in the central part of Mozambique, and he gave one of the best sermons we've heard here. The kids behaved beautifully. Jurnee slept through half of the service. Everything was in Portuguese and I understood 90% of it. The only hiccup was half way through the sermon a one meter long Spitting Cobra entered the church. Someone yelled "cobra" and everyone ran in chaos. Of course in all the chaos the only one left standing near the snake, was Jurnee. Tim ran and grabbed her as the snake raised up his head, opened his hood, and hissed. Thankfully, people here are expert snake killers and after several large rocks were thrown at it to wound it enough for someone to go up to it, they crushed it's head(the entire rest of the service, Jurnee said these words over and over, "big", "snake", "rock", "throw it".) Anyway, besides that little interruption, by the end of the service, I was so thankful to be there and to have taken part in that service, to have seen the joy and peace in the people there. There really is something incredibly humbling about it. I was reminded how beautiful it is to worship in a different culture, where nothing is like you know it and yet it is, because you are all worshiping the same God.
This is a picture of the church and congregation.
Tim praying with some people after the service.
The outside of the Church.
An Update on the Jurnee Saga....
I managed to capture of few more Jurnee moments.
She really enjoyed the hot fudge sauce, we had left too close to the edge of the counter.
She got into daddy's drawer with all his money and carried throughout the house. We have since then put it where she can't get it.
And she decided to try on some of my mascara. She just missed the eyes, thankfully:)