“…blessed are your eyes, because they see; and your ears, because they hear.” Matthew 13:16

Today, our last Sunday service in Zambia, we decided to meet with the congregation of the United Church of Zambia at George Compound. As we began driving into George, we picked up two women; one expecting who had a wash tub full of vegetables tied to her back with a chitenge, and the other with a baby dangling from her back in a chitenge. There were two children with them; a girl of about 12 years and a boy of about 8 years. As we drove down the crater filled, dusty path, the two women chatted in Bemba, and the three children we busy staring at Ron and I. The two older children were silent, but smiling the whole while, but the baby look at us intently, then asked his mother a series of questions, and then just stared and stared at the white faces. When we were at the entrance to the church road, we asked if they wanted to get out and the woman with the baby said “No! Church! Church of Zambia!” And we told her that was the same church we were looking for, which made her very happy. So we drove down the next dirt path until she said “Next church” and we drove in and parked in a little bit of shade next to a mud block building with a rusted tin roof with bits of plastic and dried grass covering the holes. We all got out of the car, and the pregnant woman tied the big metal tub of vegetables on her back again, and with a warm smile shook my hand, saying “Natotella” (I thank you). I asked when her baby was due and if she would have it at home or at the clinic. She replied “one month” and “home.” After one more hand shake, she was off into the village. The other woman, who I later learned was Miriam, was so very lovely. She entered the church, with the baby feeding at her breast, and her two older children still smiling and staring at Ron and me. No one was in the church except for the secretary who greeted us, and welcomed us to worship with them. She was busy wiping off the layer of dust which collects on the benches. Next, the minister arrived, who I recognized from the last funeral, and also from the community committee which helps to govern George. Slowly, people came in, the men taking their seats on the left side of the church, and the women and children on the right side. Ron and I sat together on the men’s side – close to the aisle. One of the men is a laborer from the project site, and he was very excited to see us in his church. In all, about fifteen people came inside before the service began. The main choir was about five in size, and the women’s choir numbered three. Miriam led the women’s choir in song – her voice so beautiful, and you could see and hear the joy of the Lord radiating from her. The number didn’t matter; their voices were strong and inspiring. The main choir soon brought in two drums as accompaniment and then the dancing began. It’s slow, rocking back and forth a little, with hand motions in front, reminiscent of a train. The main choir and women’s choir alternated with songs, and as they did, it was like the call from the Lord was heard, and the church slowly filled, as each entered to join in the celebration, many taking their place with the choirs. The entire service was in Bemba, with only a very few words of English spoken. But we understood so much, just from the joy and reverence of the congregation. We knew when the three claps resounded in the church, that we were beginning in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. After some time, the service came to a brief halt, as the minister came to Ron and me, and whispered “Please stand – we all want to greet you.” And so we stood, and received our welcoming claps, also in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Today’s reading was from Matthew, chapter13 verses 1-23 – the parable of the farmer scattering the seed. Before the minister began today’s sermon, he said he had a short message for today’s visitors. “While you may not fully understand the local language in which most of today’s message will be given, you remain in the House of God, covered by the umbrella of His grace and love.” What a lovely reminder that we were welcome, and that even the boundaries of language cannot separate us from the Holy Spirit. True to his word, most of the message was in Bemba, but the message we did hear was: “Your voice is important when talking to any person. The seed of God’s Word has been planted in all of us, what will your harvest be?” And while we didn’t understand the words of much of today’s service, it was clear when we were on our knees, that we were asking for forgiveness, and when the beat of the drum was lively and the dancing was moving, we were celebrating in the joy of the Lord. There was also a welcoming for one of the women into the church lady’s group. The group wears a white headdress, a black skirt, and a red top with a white collar. The newcomer explained to the congregation the meaning of each piece of clothing, which we were unable to understand, until she came to the big pockets on her top – one is to carry your Bible with you, and the other for pocket change. When the service had ended, the minister led the congregation outside, where each shook hands and then joined in a huge circle, ending with the main choir. As the song was finishing, once again the minister stepped over and whispered in my ear “Will you do us the honor of imparting the final prayer and blessing.” What a privilege and honor. We feel so much a part of this community, and love and treasure our time here – this was truly an unexpected blessing that I will treasure in my heart always. Afterward, I spoke with the minister and learned his name is Christopher Kabwe and that five of our children from George OMNI School are in his home. I can’t wait for that home visit! He asked for us to please come back and continue worshiping with them, and we told him that unfortunately this was our last Sunday of worship here in Zambia. Pastor Kabwe replied “This is where God has placed you. You will return.”