The last song of the March 17 bilingual Sunday morning
worship was “The Old Rugged Cross.” On the wall appeared the words in English
my favorite hymn as a child, 6000+ miles away from home. Four of my friends and
I were the only white people I saw in this friendly Gospel church of
approximately 400...but I can handle that.
Memories and thoughts flooded my mind. As a child, this was
the hymn my mother called in as my request to be played during “Aunt Helen’s Bible
Story Hour” on the Winchester KY radio station. My first holiday on foreign
soil/Easter was 2 weeks away; and my first birthday abroad would be a few days
before Easter. OK, I confess my mind was wandering.
The several hundred voices of the congregation sounded like
and an angelic choir in my humble opinion. I felt God’s presence in a powerful
way. My eyes started leaking just a little, then more. I took deep breaths to
fight the tears, but it didn’t work for very long this time. Huh oh!! I think a
sneak attack of homesickness had struck. At the same time I was experiencing a vivid reminder of God being with me through all the new experiences.
I thank God that I have found a church in Yaounde, Cameroon
that deeply ministers to my heart and soul as I endeavor to support Bible
translation / missionary families as a school librarian and make plans to
minister in my neighborhood children’s Bible Club.
I’ve experienced “Goldilocks syndrome” in searching for a
new “home” church in a city of 1.5 million where there are none of my
denominational background. One church downtown is “too English,” “too Western,”
and “too white” to help fulfill my goal of learning Cameroon culture and French
as I worship. Another church extremely close by in my neighborhood is “too
French.” A few song tunes sounded familiar, but not a word of English was
spoken; I prefer small steps in learning French and hunger to hear God’s word
proclaimed in a way I can understand. At another bilingual church the
preacher and translator were both “too fast;” and I struggled to
understand African English with and hardly caught a word of the French translation.
The African pastor of this evangelistic church has
superb English enunciation for my ears and usually speaks slowly phrase
by phrase; I am catching and recognizing more and more words in French. This
church the last two Sundays feels “just right” in this season for this new missionary
struggling to learn a new language and desiring to fellowship with
Cameroonians. I experienced the power of one’s mother tongue (mine) to speak to
the heart and soul.
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