A trip back in time

A few weeks ago when I was grocery shopping at P*blix, I stopped by the deli, one of my favorite places. The lady who waited on me spoke with an accent, and I asked her where she was from. "H*iti," was her reply. So I spoke a few words of Creole to her, and we conversed a few minutes before I told her what I needed. In our conversation, I told her that I had taught missionary kids in Ha*ti back in the early 70's, and then she told me that she was a pastor's wife and invited me to attend a service at her church.

She told me that they were having a dinner on Thanksgiving Day, but I told her that I would be with family, but I would try to come at another time. The holidays came and went, and I ended up going today. I took my English Bible since I wasn't sure where my French one was. I have a hymnal that we used in Ha*ti, but I didn't take it along with me. I arrived at 11, the time that the service was to begin. By the time everyone came, it was around 11:30 before the service actually started.

The church was filled with young adults and lots of children. There were about ten musicians on instruments and a praise team made up of a couple of the women of the church. A lady sitting across the aisle from me loaned me her songbook and showed me where the songs we that we were singing. What fun it was to sing in Creole again. The theme of the songs was that during hard times, God is faithful and is always there. It really spoke to my heart.

The pastor introduced the guests and asked each one to say something to the congregation. He told me before the service started that he wanted me to speak Creole, so I did. I shared with them how I had lived in Haiti a long time ago and how, once you have been there, it always stays in your heart. And I shared with them about the hard times that I have gone through and how I never have doubted the faithfulness of God. I hope they understood my bumbling. I think they did, and if they didn't, they would be far too polite to say so...to my face anyway.

When I got there, the pastor's wife greeted me. As we were sitting there, I asked her what denomination the church was...Baptist, Pentecostal, or ??? She told me that it was a Church of God. Now in my church people raise their hands if they want, and we clap our hands quite a bit, but these folks really got into it. They ended up literally dancing in the aisles...even the pastor.

The service started at 11:30, and I slipped out at 3:30. The pastor was still going strong. No one was asleep! Many were dutifully taking notes of everything he had to say. Children were sitting still; there was no children's church to entertain them. I was impressed. A young woman translated everything from Creole into English for those young people who are not as fluent in their country's language as their parents.

The photos here are some that I took when I was in Hai*i. The little girls in the red dress were daughters of one of the pastors of one of the large churches in our association. The little girls down below were the daughters of the pastor of the little church that I went to while I was there. I've been working on scanning my slides, but the device I bought didn't work quite right, so I returned it. Hopefully I'll get more done in good time.