But I am a preacher, so preach I will. I looked up today's lectionary gospel reading and sure enough it was Luke 15.1-3, 11-31, or better known as the prodigal son. I preached on the idea of the story really being about the prodigal father, the father who gave foolishly his love away, rather than the son who gave foolishly his money and dignity away. I was able to give my own testimony as a prodigal daughter who God also gave foolishly to. It was a truly familiar text that I had thought much about in the past so it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be with such short notice. I was glad Milord was now with us, as he did his best to interpret my message to the people of Nan Soulette in their native language. I would say a phrase, then Milord would say a phrase. Then me again and then him again. I couldn't have done it without him.
Worship was loud and joyful, as always in Haiti! Service lasted 2 hours without feeling half that. Everyone sang with excitement and a sense of priviledge to be able to worship our Lord. Madame, pastor's wife, danced and danced as she sang from the top of her lungs. She raised both her hands into the air as she praised God throughtout worship. I asked pastor how old he was this year. He said, "77 but I don't look it, do I?!" I smiled. He worshipped with energy and excitement, as well.
The young men kept rhythms on the old beat up drum, older boys tapped on the outside rim of the same drum with sticks found in the yard, and little boys clicked small rocks together learning new rhythms all at the same time. It was amazing to see and hear. The hymns were the same as our hymnal, but with French words. So many tunes were familiar. It was comforting to see our Methodist connection at work.
After worship and lunch, we enjoyed another swim in the ocean. We were spoiled, for sure. We also moved some rocks in preparation for Monday's work. A huge pit was dug in the limestone behind the church. I am not sure what they will fill it with. It seems very dangerous with all the kids running around. But young men were in it with large steel picks, hitting the walls and floor until large chunks broke off. Then they would load up 5 gallon buckets, as young men up above pulled up rope tied to the bucket's handle. After emptying the rocks and loose powder away from the edge of the pit, then the bucket would be lowered again. The process went on and on and on. By the time they were done, the pit was approximately 10' x 12' by 14' deep...by hand...hewn out of solid limestone...with no power tools. I can't imagine how long they had been working on it. Incredible.
Usually no work is done on the weekends, but they knew it was needed to be ready for bossman returning on Monday...and it was for the Lord, so a little (Ha!) work in the afternoon was not so bad. We were also able to get in a siesta before dinner. Ahhhhh...
Another evening of friends talking, teens sharing language lessons, children coloring with crayons, and elders quietly watching over them all with smiles on their faces while sitting in the dark of the night. Many stars pierced the sky...but nothing like the real screams that pierced the night ahead...
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