Operation Underdog

Sundays always fill me with hope. There is something about joining together in one accord that makes me hopeful for the future. And I say this, despite the outward lack of success in our church. Last Sunday, the first Sunday of the fall, we had an outstanding turn out of twenty-eight people. This Sunday, we had lost seven people, or rather rotated them out, save for the few faithful--they seem to move in cycles, like the ebb and flow of the ocean. Today was the lowest number in attendance we've ever had, according to my father.

The dwindling numbers are largely due to a change in leadership as the old pastor stepped down and my father took his place. Change is a great thief of believers.

We meet in a school cafeteria; we have one piano and one microphone. To add to our one-woman-worship team we need amplifiers we do not have for musicians who have not yet volunteered. (Myself excluded--I volunteered--but I wouldn't call myself a musician.) But we do have a good projector and many chairs, which we arrange hopefully every Sunday in the belief that more people will come.

 I led Sunday school.

We drew manga warriors for our Armor of God lesson, whilst discovering we all like Beyblade--Kai being a clear favourite. Having things in common with nine-year-olds seems to be a recurring theme with me. 

Kai Hiwatari: Because he's awesome.

Despite all the things that could be taken as setbacks, the spilt milk that we could cry over, we find blessings in meeting. We have fika; we hear the Good Word; we pray for each other; we have Sunday school for the little ones. And all this, in it's simplicity--men and women from different nations meeting under one God--is what gives me joy and brings me hope. There are new adventures on the horizon.

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Jeremiah 29:11