I woke up yesterday at around 8 for the service at 10am at
my new church. After finally getting out of the bed and getting ready, I headed
downstairs for breakfast (I’m not kidding I eat about half a loaf of bread
every morning. But don’t tell my parents because they’d tell me that that’s not
healthy…) and was on the sidewalk (get it? Because I was walking? Not on the
road, but on the sidewalk…) by 9:30, Happy to have a peaceful and uneventful 35
minutes ahead of me, just me and my music.
I turned onto the Church’s street at 10 on the dot, but I
had spent an extra 5 minutes at breakfast because I was betting on the fact
that starting at 10 didn’t really mean starting at 10. I was right. A family
crossed the street ahead of me, and I saw that they were headed towards the
church as well. As they walked up the stairs, they were greeted by a genuine,
gray-haired man who seemed excited to see them. And the oddest thing happened –
“Goodmorning” he said to them in perfect English! Or at least that’s what I
thought I had heard. But if that were true, then that would mean that either he
was a regular attendee and could care less about the whole French thing because
everyone knew he couldn’t speak French, or that the family in front of me was
American, or both.
The service started just before 10:10, and we began with
worship. The experience was very similar to the one I had in the Dominican
Republic this summer – there’s just something surreal about hearing people
worship the same God you do, in a different part of the world, and in a
different language. The best part is when it’s a song you know, and they just
translated it and did some rearranging of the words to make it fit their
language.
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| Worshipping the same God. Crazy... |
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| That symbol on the back wall is what it's ALL about!! |
During one of the songs, I looked back to see if my mystery man was
still next to the door. When I saw that he was, I went back to him – I had to
know.
“Did I hear you speaking English?”
“Yes you did! I’m an American.”
“Really? I am too!”
“Are you Theodore?”
“I am! Wait, how did you know my name?”
“Oh, the pastor e-mailed me and told me you were coming to
the service today!”
“Wow….I’m so glad I met you, can I talk to you after the
service?”
“You sure can!”
WHAT A BREATH OF FRESH AIR. I love France so far, and the
French are wonderful, accepting people. I can already see that. But I cannot
tell you how good that felt. To hear your native tongue after going a week
without it and thinking you still had just under 3 months left to go – it was
literal music to my ears. I guess it just felt like being back home again, even if just for a few moments. If you know me, you know that I’m not an extrovert. I
would rather stay at home and watch Smallville than go out to some social event
where I would have to meet people and engage in small talk (I’m so serious. I
love Smallville and I HATE small talk. It just
takes so much energy…), but I wanted to go up to this guy and hear his life
story!
The service was wonderful. We had a guest speaker, and he
talked about evangelism and how important it is. He said that “As Christians, evangelism
isn’t a choice. It’s as much a part of our walk as prayer and worship and
discipleship.” I felt that what he was saying was founded in Scripture, and I
definitely grew from his message.
Once the service ended, the dad of the family who had walked
in before me and was sitting in the row behind me stood up and introduced
himself to me. They were Americans too! They’ve been living in this city for
about a year now, and they originally moved here to work for Michelin. In fact,
he told me, there are a lot of Americans in this city, and most of them work
for Michelin – including the man I met earlier. Actually, most of them go to
the other protestant church in the city, where they used to attend, but he told
me it was pretty watered-down, so they came to this one in search of meat. Oh,
and this church by the way this church was founded by Christians from Alabama. (WHAT?) Oh, and both the husband
and wife of this family had close friends from Liberty. (ALSO, WHAT?) Clearly,
either I live in a really small world, or I serve a really big God.
Earlier, at the end of the message, after they had gone
through the announcements, the pastor got up (to my surprise) and introduced me
to the congregation of about 80 people. He then told them that I was in search
of somewhere to stay. While I was speaking with the American family, I had
about four people come up and slip pieces of paper in my hand with their
addresses and contact information, telling me I could come stay with them. This
was an answer to a prayer I had been praying for months! I’ll go with option #2
– I serve a really big God.
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| Good to know that in some countries, businesses other than Chick-fil-A still close on Sundays! (Ignore the creepy dude staring at the window...) |
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