Unashamed

I wake up most mornings to Indian music coming from a nearby Hindu temple. They blare it so that the entire community can hear it. This can go on pretty late into the night, as well as start up at five or six in the morning. For some reason it just seems normal here. I often don't think that much about it. Then, I'll randomly really think about it and it hits me that they are proclaiming, unashamedly, belief in their gods, in their religion.
I went to church this morning. Its about a 45 minute drive and then a couple minute trek to the building. I rode with the pastor, and on our way we picked up another pastor, the guest speaker. We get there pretty early, so I sit down in the back and just read my Bible. Both of the pastors tell me I should sit on the stage in front. Well, they more ask me if I want to. A lot of times Indians don't directly tell you to do something, they passively ask, but you can tell that that's what they want you to do. So I sit down on stage. In the mean time they ask me if I want to share my testimony or preach something. I tell them whatever they need me to do. They say, "Ok. You can have 30 minutes." haha. O Lord! 30 minutes. Please understand that last week at church I half expected them to ask me to share something, and they didn't. So this time it didn't cross my mind that they would. I was just along for the ride. So here I am with a few minutes of notice to prepare a 30 minute sermon. (Really I'm being dramatic. I had to use an interpreter, so that takes up half of the time, plus 30 minutes is fluid here.) I prayed a lot and really did feel calm about it. I went back and forth a little about what to share and settled on Hebrews 1. I might as well use something that God's been stirring in my heart.

The service starts. I felt like I was in a daze for most of the day. I think its because I literally spent the entire day yesterday by myself because there was no school, P. Banuel had a lot going on, and I don't have a lot of option to just go meet people since I can't exactly talk to them. Anyway, despite the fog I felt like my brain was in, I was amazed at the service. I felt like I had walked into a full-blown Pentecostal camp meeting. Clearly I sure didn't mind! One woman has a mic and a drum on the floor, another man has a mic, and a boy has a tambourine. The other thirty or so people join in the music with such passion and fervency, such sincerity. At one point they kept singing the same thing over and over, hands clapping, arms raised, while the pastor intensely prayed.

I was reminded of the Hindu music I hear in the mornings. They don't hold back in proclaiming their beliefs. And I was glad to see that the followers of Jesus here sure don't either. They carry their Bibles proudly as they walk to church, they sing with all of their hearts to their God. My deepest prayer for them, which actually holds true for American believers also, is that following Jesus won't be a religious ritual, but truly life. I pray that they will be able to show the people around them the true life that's found in Jesus. "In Him was life, and that life was the light of men." John 1:4

Later in the service I share. I probably only took like ten or fifteen minutes. I honestly don't know. It felt pretty rough. My interpreter isn't really all that fluent, so we stumbled quite a bit. And its hard for me to feel in my element when I know people can't understand me. But I'm excited to know that God's Word will never come back void. All I want is for those people to know the truth of God's Word, to stand strong in a culture that has a lot of other religious options, and to live in the light of Jesus. Even if all I did was get up there and read Hebrews 1, I know that the Holy Spirit will do the work He desires to do. I'm just grateful He'll use me.