worship

Jul 22, 2007 12:34

The whole time I have been in San Francisco, I have been concerned with how to find a church to go to on Sunday that wasn't too far from where we were staying. I am giving myself plenty of time to find somewhere, instead of last minute and not being able to go anywhere. I ask my hosts who tell me there is a Chinese church just around the corner. I am a bit amused about going to a church I won't be able to understand a word of the service, because i know exactly three phrases in Mandarian and that's it. But I decide I am going anyway, because "where two or three are gathered in his name...

I walk over to the church on Saturday afternoon and there are six kids of various ages and sexes playing handball up against the white stucco of the church and I ask politely when does church start tomorrow and they amusedly tell me 9:15 a.m. They also are wondering how I am going to understand the service, I assume. If I knew How to speak the Chinese, I woulda asked them in Chinese what time to come.

So, I set my alarm for seven a.m. which will give this slow and sleepy woman time to take a shower, but not wash The Hair which doesn't need it and get dressed.

I walk down to the church and I watch many many Chinese people walk into the building I really can't tell the size up, but I am to discover it's huge once I get in. A man who I guess is an elder asks me with a twinkle: English or Chinese and I reply with a twinkle, English. When I get in I have to sit in the last sit in the last row because i see the room which is quite large has speakers and i don't want to mess up my pacemaker with the magnets inside the speakers. I soon discover this church seats 3oo or 400 people and they sing the same modern hymns that we do and i am so happy i find i am crying through a song. Not noise crying, just a nice salty single tear down my cheek and that's a rarity for this salty old dog.i am truly happy.

The parish is just like my own. I feel so at home.
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