I arose early this morning to pray and go over my notes for Sunday School. The early morning sky was filled with low-hanging clouds that nestled into the nooks and crannies of the nearby hills. The previous late night and early morning made it hard to feel alert, so a cup of instant coffee helped to wake up the brain.
I taught the ladies’ Sunday School class while Charlie taught the men’s. During the morning worship service, Charlie preached while Giovanni interpreted. About sixty people were in attendance. Almost all of them had no idea of what it meant to be saved nine years ago when the church began.
Giovanni’s parents live in a nearby town and attend his church. They invited us for lunch. When we arrived, we women all disappeared into the outdoor kitchen while the men sat outside and talked. The wood stove blazed, and the Indian woman, their maid, stood by the fire making tortillas. Using only her hands to pat them into shape, she turned out a stack of uniform-sized tortillas in minutes. I was amazed at her quickness and ability. Laura re-washed the bowls and serving dishes, a necessity when insects wander over your dishes after they’ve been put away. We gathered around a large table to enjoy the fellowship, hot tortillas, and steaming bowls of beef stew.
After lunch we headed over to the mission church for the afternoon service, only this service was different from usual. Both churches were joining together for a baptismal service at the grounds of a Guatemalan resort, a block or so from the mission’s rented building. When the people had arrived, Pastor Avendano gave instructions to the baptismal candidates and they donned their baptismal robes. Photos were taken, and then the service began.
We sang hymns together, and Pastor Avendano taught on the meaning of baptism. He explained the testimony of being baptized in front of others and the symbolism behind immersion. He encouraged the candidates to hold true to their comm
itment to follow Jesus, and then the baptisms began.
Roberto Avendano, Pastor Avendano’s father, was among the candidates. What an answer to prayer that was! Giovanni has prayed for his father to trust in Christ as his personal Savior for many years! Then, to be the one who got to baptize him was an extra blessing. Nine other candidates joined him – one young man, several women, and three teenage girls. Charlie assisted in those baptisms.
When the baptismal service was over, it was time for a picnic, Guatemalan style. Tamales, bread, and Pepsi were served, and people scattered across the lawns to eat and enjoy each others’ company and the good food. Teenage boys clambered up the side of a hill to the tire swing that swung out into a wide expanse.
Eventually, even good things like baptisms must come to an end, and people packed up their things and headed for home.
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| Dad introducing his daughter to a table of guests. |
However, the day was far from over for us.
We headed back to the house where we were staying. I found some ibuprophen to deal with the headache that was pounding at my forehead and lay down for a while. Forty-five minutes later we headed out again, this time to the home of a young lady celebrating her Quinceanera, or 15th birthday, a big event for young ladies in Latin America. We arrived just after the pinata had been broken open and were invited to sit down at one of the expansive tables that had been set up on the patio. Once again, bread and tamales?? appeared, though a different flavor from the ones that afternoon. Jamaica, a hibiscus tea, was served as well, or sweet black coffee, if you preferred.
Leaving there around 9:00, we headed home to pack. Fortunately, that did not take too long and we sank into bed at about 10:00. Charlie set his alarm clock for 2:45 a.m. and we quickly drifted off to sleep - a good thing too, since tomorrow will be another long day.
