Sunday, October 28:
Before traveling to Congo Bobby and I had discussed one of our deep desires was to attend a church service while in Congo. However, we didn't see this as a reality. We were warned about leaving on our own, and as much as I had tried ahead of time, I wasn't able to connect with someone living in Congo.
But, on our last flight over to DRC as we were walking down the breezeway to our plane, a lady approached us and asked us why we were headed to Congo (we stood out a bit!). Turns out this sweet lady and her family are missionaries in the DRC and they also are members of the International Protestant Church of Kinshasa. She gave us her number and told us to call her if we wanted to go to church on Sunday....
Sunday morning we were giddy---first off, to get out of the hotel again! Secondly, we were going to church in Congo!
After our last breakfast buffet, we eagerly waiting in the lobby until David and Sandy arrived. Hopping into their van, we felt a little bit of relief, comfort, and excitement. This was the first time since arriving that we were speaking with other Americans (other than our travel companion, A) AND they could fluently speak our language AND they knew so much about Congo. We found ourselves speaking nonstop every second we had with them---questions about their missions work, questions about Congo, questions about raising children in the DRC.
We walked into the doors of the church overjoyed with the sense of community that we felt...and a true presence of God right alongside us! We sat near the back of the church and quickly met many people (the IPCK is an English speaking church). When we first arrived there were only a few people around us...but moments before the service began the floodgates opened! The church was packed. People from all over the world-in one place-to worship the Lord.
We thoroughly enjoyed our time of worship that morning. I found myself almost giddy as we stood singing praises to Him, surrounded by people from all walks of the world. But one thing we will never forget was the prayer. One lady stood up to pray in her native language..praying for at least 10 minutes straight. Even though we could not understand the words of her lips, it was obvious the Holy Spirit was among her and she was inspiring even to our English-only ears.
One other thing I vividly remember is after the service was over, only a handful of people quickly left the church grounds. Most people stood outside in conversation and fellowship for a long time after the service was over. Children laughing and playing. Moms chatting. Dads visiting. The sense of community and love was so great.
Leaving the church, David and Sandy invited us to come to lunch. Our one and only time eating outside the hotel while in Congo! We went to a small restaurant that was booming with people. D and S quickly explained the menu with us and we decided to take their word on what to order...some sort of pita type wrap with chicken, veggies, and a special sauce. And of course...Fanta. We had seen people drinking Fanta everywhere. David explained that Fanta is a special treat in Congo and the most popular choice of soft drink.
Sitting face to face with people who could answer of questions about Addy's birth country was such invaluable time!! We spent a great deal of time picking their brains and asking question after question.
We arrived back to the hotel with heavy hearts. Hurting in knowing the need for this country to be turned around. Hurting in seeing the vast needs before our eyes every time we left the hotel doors (or simply looked out the windows). Hurting in knowing this country has so much beauty within....and knowing that we were soon going to be taking our sweet Addy from this country. Our hearts were changed in such a drastic way through this trip that was coming to an end. How could we go home to all our comforts and life of excess after what we had witnessed in the past week?
But...our time was coming to an end. Soon after we got back our agency driver arrived to take our bags to the airport checkin. We were left in our small hotel room filled with emotions and 2 small bags that would join us on our 30 hour trip home.
We ate dinner with A and J one last time....eager to get back home to Eli, Ayla, and Owen...yet sad that our week was over. I felt this great stingy pain every time we had to say goodbye....first to the transition house, now to A and J and the waitstaff from the hotel that had became our friends...and again when we boarded the plane leaving this country that had touched us to the core.
The next few hours were hands down the craziest hours of my life. They included our last (for now) drive down Congolese "streets." Once again driving madly down the road dodging people, cars, animals, and of course..POTHOLES! I don't think we spoke more than 2 words on the hour drive back to the airport. Speechless. Hurting. Broken. Praying.
This last ride was a spitting image of our first trip down this very road...only this time we had our daughter in our arms---such full hearts after all the wait...but unsettled.
The next two hours of absolute chaos are too hard to even try describing in words. It begins with Bobby almost getting arrested for walking on the grass....and ends with us boarding the plane with tear filled eyes. And in between is a ton of yelling, people, chaos, fear, and trembling. Being pulled this way and that, stared at, questioned, and intimidated.
As intimidating as it was, the time flew by quickly...and soon we found ourselves sitting aboard the plane that would take us from Kinshasa to Belgium.
Before traveling to Congo Bobby and I had discussed one of our deep desires was to attend a church service while in Congo. However, we didn't see this as a reality. We were warned about leaving on our own, and as much as I had tried ahead of time, I wasn't able to connect with someone living in Congo.
But, on our last flight over to DRC as we were walking down the breezeway to our plane, a lady approached us and asked us why we were headed to Congo (we stood out a bit!). Turns out this sweet lady and her family are missionaries in the DRC and they also are members of the International Protestant Church of Kinshasa. She gave us her number and told us to call her if we wanted to go to church on Sunday....
Sunday morning we were giddy---first off, to get out of the hotel again! Secondly, we were going to church in Congo!
After our last breakfast buffet, we eagerly waiting in the lobby until David and Sandy arrived. Hopping into their van, we felt a little bit of relief, comfort, and excitement. This was the first time since arriving that we were speaking with other Americans (other than our travel companion, A) AND they could fluently speak our language AND they knew so much about Congo. We found ourselves speaking nonstop every second we had with them---questions about their missions work, questions about Congo, questions about raising children in the DRC.
We walked into the doors of the church overjoyed with the sense of community that we felt...and a true presence of God right alongside us! We sat near the back of the church and quickly met many people (the IPCK is an English speaking church). When we first arrived there were only a few people around us...but moments before the service began the floodgates opened! The church was packed. People from all over the world-in one place-to worship the Lord.
We thoroughly enjoyed our time of worship that morning. I found myself almost giddy as we stood singing praises to Him, surrounded by people from all walks of the world. But one thing we will never forget was the prayer. One lady stood up to pray in her native language..praying for at least 10 minutes straight. Even though we could not understand the words of her lips, it was obvious the Holy Spirit was among her and she was inspiring even to our English-only ears.
Sitting face to face with people who could answer of questions about Addy's birth country was such invaluable time!! We spent a great deal of time picking their brains and asking question after question.
We arrived back to the hotel with heavy hearts. Hurting in knowing the need for this country to be turned around. Hurting in seeing the vast needs before our eyes every time we left the hotel doors (or simply looked out the windows). Hurting in knowing this country has so much beauty within....and knowing that we were soon going to be taking our sweet Addy from this country. Our hearts were changed in such a drastic way through this trip that was coming to an end. How could we go home to all our comforts and life of excess after what we had witnessed in the past week?
But...our time was coming to an end. Soon after we got back our agency driver arrived to take our bags to the airport checkin. We were left in our small hotel room filled with emotions and 2 small bags that would join us on our 30 hour trip home.
We ate dinner with A and J one last time....eager to get back home to Eli, Ayla, and Owen...yet sad that our week was over. I felt this great stingy pain every time we had to say goodbye....first to the transition house, now to A and J and the waitstaff from the hotel that had became our friends...and again when we boarded the plane leaving this country that had touched us to the core.
The next few hours were hands down the craziest hours of my life. They included our last (for now) drive down Congolese "streets." Once again driving madly down the road dodging people, cars, animals, and of course..POTHOLES! I don't think we spoke more than 2 words on the hour drive back to the airport. Speechless. Hurting. Broken. Praying.
This last ride was a spitting image of our first trip down this very road...only this time we had our daughter in our arms---such full hearts after all the wait...but unsettled.
The next two hours of absolute chaos are too hard to even try describing in words. It begins with Bobby almost getting arrested for walking on the grass....and ends with us boarding the plane with tear filled eyes. And in between is a ton of yelling, people, chaos, fear, and trembling. Being pulled this way and that, stared at, questioned, and intimidated.
As intimidating as it was, the time flew by quickly...and soon we found ourselves sitting aboard the plane that would take us from Kinshasa to Belgium.
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