A Sunday Night Experience With God

So last night I had an urge to walk down to a Sunday Evening worship service at the local Baptist church near my hotel in downtown Georgetown, Exuma, Bahama. Since I didn't have my Bible with me (too big to carry on longer trips...rely on Bible app normally) I picked up the Gideon-placed Bible from the drawer of my nightstand and headed out. When I got there for 7pm service, the church was locked up tight and there was no one in sight  (actually, the town pretty much rolls up the sidewalk on Sunday...there was hardly anyone out and about almost all day on the normally busy Main Street through town). I turned around to walk back to the hotel when I heard what sounded like a beginner band  playing and a small group of people singing coming from a little further down the road. As I walked toward the sound, I determined it came from the second story of a building I often passed that houses a small appliance repair store and a small snack shop. As I got closer, I could make out strains of "Alleluia" and "Hallelujah" in the singing, so I decided to climb the stairs and go into the upper room. The rudimentary sanctuary consisted of  a section of white plastic chairs (mostly occupied) on my right side (facing the alter) and several rows of church pews (none occupied) without kneelers on the left side with a single aisle down the center to a raised makeshift platform/alter with a podium and microphone in the middle front. There was a congregation of about 30 Bahamians (mostly women, teens and pre-teens, and a couple of men) standing and singing freestyle praises, some with there hands raised. On the alter platform was a band consisting of a young, ten-ish aged boy playing drums and trying to carry the beat with beginner's drum sticks, a man playing an electric keyboard, a man playing a badly tuned guitar and a woman with a pretty voice leading the praise and worship service; and, to give you a better picture of the dynamics, I need to tell you, they were all black, so I noticed there were a few surprised glances from the git-go when I walked in. I took my place in the last pew on the left, by myself, lifted my hands and started singing Alleluia with everyone else.

Then, some amazing things begin to happen!  I knew I was in trouble, so to speak, when they began singing a hymn in what sounded like French or Creole, which meant they were probably either from or related to the Dominican Republic or Haiti (there are many in the working and service class in the Bahamas). It was a big Uh-Oh moment for me when the woman leading began to pray in Creole or speak in tongues for a bit, and I had no idea what she was saying. That's when I started asking God what has He gotten me into and what and am I supposed to do about it...and yes, praying in tongues myself for an answer. That's when the first amazing thing happened: The leader called on a young preteen girl from the congregation to come up to the front and lead a song...She began singing, in English, "What A Mighty God We Serve"...I kid you not! (Keep in mind, they don't know what language I speak...there are many tourists from across the globe who come to the resorts here.) Needless to say, I was blown away!  Then, the singing stopped, the girl returned to what seemed to be her family behind me, and the man playing the keyboard came to the podium.

He first appeared to making a couple of announcements to the congregation; then, he turned to me and asked in French and then English what language I spoke. I responded with "English" and he welcomed me to the service (in reasonably good English with a French accent) and asked me if I would stand up and give my name and tell a little about myself and where I was from. Some of the congregation seemed to understand what I was saying, but he interpreted for them after I was through. They then took up an offering, which the Holy Spirit had me contribute to; then we stood and sang one more song in Creole and sat down for the sermon. It was at that point that I was asking the Holy Spirit pretty intensely what to do here...should I stay or should I leave quietly so that the pastor would not have to be concerned about me or having to interpret his sermon for me.

That's when the next amazing thing happened: As the man playing the guitar put down his instrument and approached the podium (turned out he was the associate pastor...the pastor was in Haiti visiting family), I heard a small commotion and whispering behind me, but did not turn around to investigate so as not to appear ogling. The next thing I know, the young girl that sang earlier walked behind me to the other end of my pew, entered and came and sat down right next to me (I mean "touching" next to). The pastor began to speak and she turned to me and said, "He says to open to Matthew chapter 7, verse 7...I will interpret for you."  Wow, can you imagine...I can't even describe my surprise! I introduced myself to her and she told me her name was Jessica...she then shook my hand, and began to interpret the preacher's sermon, which lasted for the next hour and a half!  She spoke in a hushed, clear, concise, confident voice with a slight smile and bright eyes...I can't tell you how my spirit felt as I new the Holy Spirit was speaking to me through that little girl. When the preacher repeated himself, as they tend to do, she shared some personal info with me; she told me she is 11 years old, and that she was there with her Mom and 2 older sisters (teens). Occasionally, when she would interpret a point the preacher was making I would ask her "Do you believe that?" and she would reply, "I sure do!" She stayed with me until the end of the service (9:45pm: Whew, that's what I call having Church.)

There were a couple of other things that happened that I may share with y'all at another time and place (like at one point a lively dialogue occurred about one of the preacher's points that I was able to contribute to) in the interest of a little brevity, and because I'm so excited about sharing this little "God is good...all the time" story.  At the end, everyone came by and shook my hand and asked me to please come back (mostly in broken English). I asked Jessica if she ever interpreted before she said "no sir." When I asked her why she came over to help me and did her mom or someone send her, she said, "No sir. When you introduced yourself and said you were a born again Believer, I just knew in my heart I was supposed to do it." Man...Out of the mouths of babes!

Finally, at the end I asked her to ask her mom if it was OK if I got a selfie with her and another with her and her mom, the preacher and the worship leader, and they all agreed. I have attached them for your viewing.  By the way, if you haven't looked up Matt 7:7 yet, it reads "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you shall find, knock and the door will be opened to you." Amazing, right?