I just wrote an excellent blog. And it disappeared. Completely.
Since it's 4:30am and I'm awake, I'll rewrite. Although I fear it won't be as well written. Here it goes...
Sunday is always church day. No matter where you are in the world. I like that stability.
Church in Nakuru wasn't as, uh, how do you say it? Lively??? As I expected. But we danced. Yes. Danced.
Another group had their pastor say to them, "We don't want to offend, but sometimes we take out all the chairs so we can dance. Sometimes we hit into each other because we close our eyes. I know some like to worship still (with his arms at his sides and his neck stiff like he had meningitis) because they do not want to disturb God." Our American friends welcomed the African dance party as worship.
Why don't we worship with such excitement. We're worshiping the same God, aren't we? We just don't believe it. We don't need it. We're safe. We're comfortable. We have insurance and credit cards to protect us. We're loved and valued even if we don't acknowledge that sometimes. These people know hell. They smell it in their "backyards." They see it on their streets. They see it take their children. They live the injustice.
At our partners' church, I was blessed by the purity of the Gospel. The simplicity of the lyrics. The look of understanding on their faces.
Church lasted for 4 and a half hours. And the pastor spoke for only 30 minutes to keep it short for the visitors. He started at 12:00.
The night before was an all night time of prayer together for the men. Then everyone met together -women, children, men - at 6am for prayer before church. That's 7 hours of God. In one day.
6am.
That wouldn't fly back home. I can hear it already - that's my only day to sleep in. I stay up late Saturday night because it's the only day I have off. I need that time to enjoy myself.
In America we would never. Over 4 hours of church?? I've got other things to do!! I have a nap to take. Or a game to watch. Or dogs to take to the park. It's The weekend for crying out loud! Don't I DESERVE a break?!
In Kenya, there's nothing else to go home to. No couch to take a 3 hour nap on. No restaurant to beat the crowds. There's nothing to sleep in to. After all, a dump is behind their tin walled home.
So they pray.
The worship.
They grace each other with their steadfast presence every week as if to say, "THIS is what life is about." It's not about freedom to do as you wish. It's not about "rights." It's not about ambition. It's about worshipping GOD. Together.
A hot time of worship for me was listening to my new friend Susan Magiri sing "We are serving the Living God. We are serving the Living God. We are serving the Living God. Hallelujah. Jesus Christ." As the Compassion children sang next door in their classrooms (wearing their best hand-me-downs and street bought dresses that were too short for the age of their legs but fit their skinny waists), I thought to myself, "Yes. Yes you ARE serving. You are serving the Living God."
And what are we doing? Going home to lay on the couch.
Since it's 4:30am and I'm awake, I'll rewrite. Although I fear it won't be as well written. Here it goes...
Sunday is always church day. No matter where you are in the world. I like that stability.
Church in Nakuru wasn't as, uh, how do you say it? Lively??? As I expected. But we danced. Yes. Danced.
Another group had their pastor say to them, "We don't want to offend, but sometimes we take out all the chairs so we can dance. Sometimes we hit into each other because we close our eyes. I know some like to worship still (with his arms at his sides and his neck stiff like he had meningitis) because they do not want to disturb God." Our American friends welcomed the African dance party as worship.
Why don't we worship with such excitement. We're worshiping the same God, aren't we? We just don't believe it. We don't need it. We're safe. We're comfortable. We have insurance and credit cards to protect us. We're loved and valued even if we don't acknowledge that sometimes. These people know hell. They smell it in their "backyards." They see it on their streets. They see it take their children. They live the injustice.
At our partners' church, I was blessed by the purity of the Gospel. The simplicity of the lyrics. The look of understanding on their faces.
Church lasted for 4 and a half hours. And the pastor spoke for only 30 minutes to keep it short for the visitors. He started at 12:00.
The night before was an all night time of prayer together for the men. Then everyone met together -women, children, men - at 6am for prayer before church. That's 7 hours of God. In one day.
6am.
That wouldn't fly back home. I can hear it already - that's my only day to sleep in. I stay up late Saturday night because it's the only day I have off. I need that time to enjoy myself.
In America we would never. Over 4 hours of church?? I've got other things to do!! I have a nap to take. Or a game to watch. Or dogs to take to the park. It's The weekend for crying out loud! Don't I DESERVE a break?!
In Kenya, there's nothing else to go home to. No couch to take a 3 hour nap on. No restaurant to beat the crowds. There's nothing to sleep in to. After all, a dump is behind their tin walled home.
So they pray.
The worship.
They grace each other with their steadfast presence every week as if to say, "THIS is what life is about." It's not about freedom to do as you wish. It's not about "rights." It's not about ambition. It's about worshipping GOD. Together.
A hot time of worship for me was listening to my new friend Susan Magiri sing "We are serving the Living God. We are serving the Living God. We are serving the Living God. Hallelujah. Jesus Christ." As the Compassion children sang next door in their classrooms (wearing their best hand-me-downs and street bought dresses that were too short for the age of their legs but fit their skinny waists), I thought to myself, "Yes. Yes you ARE serving. You are serving the Living God."
And what are we doing? Going home to lay on the couch.
This makes me uncomfy.I loooooove my nap after church Sunday. WOW! Thx for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThat moved me to tears! We may be so very blessed to live in America but I have a feeling from what I just read that they are even more blessed in ways that we will never know. Open our eyes Lord!
ReplyDeleteTalk about Gospel-Living...God help us to repent of calling our Americanized, trivial, lukewarm, moralistic therapeutic deism "Christianity".......
ReplyDeleteTiffany,
ReplyDeleteThank you for putting things into perspective. We live our lives here and do our thing and really don't think about what other people around the world have to go through just to worship and praise Jesus, we take for granted that we have a couch to sleep on that we are even able to take a nap during the afternoon, it really makes me want to stop every second and thank God for the country in which He has blessed me to live in.
I think on Sunday we should make it a four hour church day forget the Super Bowl! Any takers?
Wow, Tiffany.....thank you for being straight forward and honest with our selfishness! You made my daughter and I really think.....
ReplyDeletewell put Tiffany...thanks for sharing...can't wait to hear all about it when you two return! love ya!
ReplyDelete