Church

I’m Bible Belt born and bred.  South Carolina.  God’s Country.  Or at least that’s what the President of my college called it.  He was, of course, an authority on the subject.  His opening address to the new class of students every Fall would always include the heartfelt (and I do believe genuine) statement: “We don’t care if you get an education here.  We care if you know Jesus.”

And then he would give directions to the Financial Aid office.  But that’s another story.

I grew up with a certain routine.  Sunday mornings: put on your best clothes.  Go to Sunday school, worship service to follow.  The service was predictable: Choir enters stage door right.  Matching robes.  The Trio appears...pastor, youth pastor, music minister.  Suit.  Tie.  Preacher haircuts abound. 

“What a pleasure it is to welcome you to ____________ Baptist Church this morning.  You’ll see in the pew in front of you a visitor’s card.  If you would please fill in your information so that we may have a record of your visit with us.  Now turn and greet one another in this time of fellowship.”  Queue the organ.

Every Sunday. 

Needless to say, there are certain things we don't miss from home.  Likewise, there are certain things we DO miss from home.  Like being part of a church.  We attended the only English Bible study in town back in the Fall.  We didn't go back after that one visit.  Just didn't seem to be a good fit for us.

But now we are very excited because we started an English class/English Bible study at our friend Mrs. Kim's church last Sunday.  It's a mix of high school and university students, and young adults.  Our favorite part of the day is after the service when everyone has lunch.  Together.  Not just for random "covered dish socials" but every Sunday.  It's a community.  And they were so welcoming.  Even the older people tried to speak a few words of English to us.

Some days I don't want to go home.