Saturday nights we attend small groups. We needed to leave at 6:15
but around 5:55 dark clouds that had been inching toward us rolled
over the church. It began softly; quiet plops and clinks of rain
hitting pavement and tin roofs with occasional booms of far off
thunder. Then, without warning, the plops and clinks swelled into
roars of rushing water as the center of the storm came upon us.
This was our first rain storm since Ghana. We had a little rain one
of the first days in Nepal and it sometimes drizzled while we slept
in Cambodia; but this…this was a torrential downpour. While
changing my outfit I thanked God that I had not sent home my raincoat
which hadn't been used in months. With my bag slung across my front
and my raincoat zippered up I walked outside expecting to find my
team waiting for me. Surprisingly no one was there. I gestured to our
host's daughter to see if they were outside the gate waiting in the
van, instead she shook her head and pointed toward the sanctuary.
Inside I saw Madre Dina, her son-in-law Pedro, Uncle Juan, my
teammates and some church members sweeping huge puddles toward the
entrance. The church, as you may have guessed, was flooding. It seems
that some of the pipes were leaking and water was quickly collecting
around the platform and back rooms.
We all pitched in with brooms and the air became full of steady
swishing; brooms on concrete, disturbed puddles. It sounded almost
like the tide breaking on the beach ten different times over and over
again. We would get one gigantic pool out only to turn around and see
another pond from the back of the sanctuary being swept toward us; an
endless ocean of rainwater puddling and being urged forward.
6:15 passed, then 6:30, then 6:45. We swept, got our feet wet, rested
a bit and swept some more. Around 7:00 we all sat down, the plan was
thrown out the window and God took over. And as the rain eased we
made our own small group. Allison spoke on how the teamwork of
sweeping reminded her of God and the body of Christ. We shared prayer
requests; the intercession was a beautiful mixture of English and
Spanish, rising toward God like a fragrant incense. The night was
calm and cool.
Of all the nights in El Salvador, I've liked this one the best. For
one thing, rain makes my heart rejoice. The sounds, smells and
atmosphere are calming to me. Mostly this has been my favorite
because it was so unexpected. That is life on the World Race.
Ministry is not simply teaching English or Volleyball. It is playing
pool with “waitresses” in Thailand, playing Volleyball after
school, or sweeping the rain in church.
