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I almost got into a fight at church!

Not one of my finest moments.

A few weeks ago, we brought our guests to Kigali for worship. The plan was to reserve the entire row so we could sit together, but before I could reserve the seats a family of 3 sat adjacent to us.
I asked our group to move back a row so we would have enough chairs.As we began to sing, the dad coming back to me and he leaned in close saying that he felt like he had scared us away. I looked at him in the eye and even though I couldn’t hear everything he said I could tell he was irritated.

I was holding Zeb as I followed the man back to his seat and tapped him on the shoulder. I asked him if he was angry? He shrugged his shoulders and gave me that irritated look again. I was becoming a little irritated as well and slightly amused.I returned to him a second time and tapped his shoulder and said with a mischievous grin, “Do you want to go outside and talk about it?” He just turned away as he said “no”.

There I was holding my 2 year old son as people were praising God, and I was picking a fight.

The stress of living cross culturally does weird things to me, but even so shame on me! No excuses!

In reviewing that short moment, I am reminded what a wretched man I am before God! I have so much to learn.While I don’t beat myself up too much for this epic fail it reminds me of my need for a Savior. My spirit cries out, “Jesus save me from myself!”. It drives me to my knees and the familiar chorus cuts to my heart:

“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found;
Was blind, but now, I see.”

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