Wendy's doing much better--the stone seemed to pass sometime Friday evening. When you live as far away from your church as we do, it's pretty surprising to watch people step into your lives. Wendy called me at work on Thursday; Allie immediately offered to come keep the kids so we could go to the hospital. Friday evening, Amy called and ordered supper for us at Chilis. Sunday afternoon, Stephanie handed me a meal for the night. And, of course, the Riot of Passage at Six Flags went well without me, even with a thunderstorm in the middle of the day (I have a wonderful team and a great boss).
The church is an amazing thing, really. Sometimes you wonder why we bother; other times you wonder what you would do without it. Moving to a metroplex is no easy task. We often wonder about those who do it completely alone. We were lonely, but we do have the church and we too easily take it for granted. God provides through the church.
I've been troubled lately by the famine in Africa. Do Christians ever starve to death? I mean, Paul had times where he was in hunger. Certainly Christians die in persecution. Mr. Abassi told me of some students at his seminary who had recently witnessed a beheading by their captors and began to pray they would be shot instead of beheaded. Somehow they escaped. Here's my real question: Who's responsibility is it to make sure no Christians ever starve to death? In the New Testament, it was the church. Paul collected from the wealthier churches to provide for the poor ones--the ones who were hungry because they were persecuted and couldn't find jobs.
Our church has adopted a people group in India. The Marathi people. Sometime in the next six months, we want to send a team to India to make a DVD for our body so they can meet the Marathis and learn to love them--so a wealthy church can care for a poor one, a persecuted one. I might actually get to go. When Megan looked it up on the globe, she said, "Why don't you go to China and then you can see how everything is made."