::P-day. Mountain Air::
The view from Lembang down into Bandung
Two stories in the interest of time:
Saturday afternoon I was waiting for an angkot to Antapani when a small hand tugged at my skirt folds. My hand went automatically to my coin pocket--- my heart's far too weak for this, no matter the effect on my monthly stipend---and gave the boy whatever I could fit in my fist, our hands touching for the fleeting exchange of a please and thank you, and then he was off running again. I watched him turn the corner, dashing barefoot across the eroding cobblestone before taking a long leap into the neighboring bakery. He offered my coins to the woman at the oven, along with a broken bottle he must have picked up mid-flight. She filled it for him from the tap, water still brown and murky, and then he was off again---passing my way with a shy smile before arriving at his final destination, the concrete island divider between traffic lanes at the height of rush hour. In between the bumpers and motorbikes I watched him share his spoils, the small troop of street kids passing the bottle around their circle in measured sips. It was gone within a few rounds, and then it was back to work. They strapped on their ukuleles, picked up their tambourines, and began to play from window to window.
I don't really understand why I got the life I did.
Sunday a shuttle-load of tourists wandered into Sacrament Meeting, visiting Bandung for the weekend from Malaysia. Members? Nope. Christians, looking for a Sunday service. And how did they find our little building, hidden away in the greenery of Taman Cibuening in a relatively undeveloped part of town? Their bus driver, the same one that drives us out of Jakarta every PLD [zone conference]. Muslim, but knows us and our name tags---and looked up where we meet and worship. All ten of the visitors stayed all three hours, each leaving with a Book of Mormon.
God works in mysterious ways. But it looks like He's working in Bandung, too.
Am late and will have to call President because of it, but I love you! Am feeling somewhat better, especially after all that mountain air. Sorry for yet another short email without a lot of connecting thoughts, but I know you know that I know the Church is True! Even in Indonesia.
love love love
E
Saturday afternoon I was waiting for an angkot to Antapani when a small hand tugged at my skirt folds. My hand went automatically to my coin pocket--- my heart's far too weak for this, no matter the effect on my monthly stipend---and gave the boy whatever I could fit in my fist, our hands touching for the fleeting exchange of a please and thank you, and then he was off running again. I watched him turn the corner, dashing barefoot across the eroding cobblestone before taking a long leap into the neighboring bakery. He offered my coins to the woman at the oven, along with a broken bottle he must have picked up mid-flight. She filled it for him from the tap, water still brown and murky, and then he was off again---passing my way with a shy smile before arriving at his final destination, the concrete island divider between traffic lanes at the height of rush hour. In between the bumpers and motorbikes I watched him share his spoils, the small troop of street kids passing the bottle around their circle in measured sips. It was gone within a few rounds, and then it was back to work. They strapped on their ukuleles, picked up their tambourines, and began to play from window to window.
I don't really understand why I got the life I did.
Sunday a shuttle-load of tourists wandered into Sacrament Meeting, visiting Bandung for the weekend from Malaysia. Members? Nope. Christians, looking for a Sunday service. And how did they find our little building, hidden away in the greenery of Taman Cibuening in a relatively undeveloped part of town? Their bus driver, the same one that drives us out of Jakarta every PLD [zone conference]. Muslim, but knows us and our name tags---and looked up where we meet and worship. All ten of the visitors stayed all three hours, each leaving with a Book of Mormon.
God works in mysterious ways. But it looks like He's working in Bandung, too.
Am late and will have to call President because of it, but I love you! Am feeling somewhat better, especially after all that mountain air. Sorry for yet another short email without a lot of connecting thoughts, but I know you know that I know the Church is True! Even in Indonesia.
love love love
E
2 comments:
The mountain air looks gorgeous! The story about the boy broke my heart. It's times like these when you know, you are incredibly blessed. I couldn't agree more. God certainly has His ways of reaching the gospel to all parts of the world, even in the most unexpected places and times of uncertainty.
I live in Antapani, where is your Mission? I live in Jalan Subang Antapani, I hope you could visit my house, Sometimes I go to Lembang for hiking, its fun & full of challenge
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