This morning I am sitting in my “office” (see picture below) working on my sermon for Sunday. The scripture for the sermon is Psalm 116 with an emphasis on verse 12. The pastor told me that the theme for this Sunday is thanksgiving and that I need to be at the church at 7:15 (the service starts at 7:30) to get my robe (I hope they have one that will fit me) and march in the processional. Thanksgiving should be an easy subject to talk about, but I am concerned about cultural references that might not be understood. “Lost in translation” is a real concern and I want to do a good job since it is first “official” sermon. My “office” should help provide the needed inspiration.
The “kids” all went to Kigali yesterday afternoon, but promised that they would be back Saturday afternoon so they could go to church and hear me preach on Sunday. I don’t know if I have said it before, but they are a great bunch and it is fun playing surrogate father to them.
There are times when I wish I were a story teller, and this is one of those times. A rather humorous incident occurred this week and I am not sure I can do it justice in my blog, but here goes. It occurred on Tuesday morning as I was leaving to go to Hotel Gorillas for breakfast. I had just walked out of the drive onto the main road when two young boys said bonjour. Being the great language person I am, I answered them, but apparently not quite correctly because a little Italian nun who was walking by at the same time took it upon herself to try and help correct me. Since she did not speak English, and I didn’t speak anything else, it became quite a sight with her smiling at me, shaking her head while trying to give language lessons to the dense American. I found out later that she is the head of the convent that is next door to the Bridge2Rwanda house.
I had better get back to my sermon. I think my next update will be on Sunday after church. I will let you know if the robe fits.