Sunday morning

I know I just rambled recently, but this adventure is too good not to share.

I was supposed to meet up with a friend to go to mass on Sunday morning. The Plan: rendezvous at 8:00am at the Hall 8 bus stop and ride over together.

Nothing could be simpler...(dun, dun, dun).

Alas and alack, I didn't confirm The Plan via email. I did send him a text saying I would meet him there. Where, there meant the Hall 8 bus stop. He must have thought I meant the church. So, he went along without me, and I managed to wait at the wrong Hall 8 bus stop, preoccupied with how hungry I was.

When 8:15 came along and he didn't show, I decided venture out on my own. The directions to the church seemed so easy.

I hopped onto the 199, changed buses at Boon Lay to the 174, and plopped in a window seat where I would be able to see a "building that looked like a church" that would signal my stop. Unfortunately, I never saw the church. I just kept riding the bus, staring out the window, allowing panic to set in. I knew I must have missed my stop miles back, but I didn't see anyway that I could still make it to mass in time at my original destination.

Now, when I'm hopelessly lost I generally do one of two things: (1) ask for directions or (2) pretend I know where I'm going.

The first option was too taxing, so I opted for Plan B. I followed the people on the bus who looked like they were heading to church. There was a whole crowd of them, so it seemed like a safe bet. I got off at their stop, trotted down the sidewalk after them, and followed them right into the back entrance of a large building. The whole time I was praying, "Please let it be a Christian church, and please let the service be in English!"

I hovered in the foyer in indecision when my bus friends scattered in different directions. When a lady came in, I asked her if they had services in English. She was amazingly nice and adopted me on the spot (metaphorically speaking).

It turns out that I attended a Presbyterian church with wonderfully welcoming people. They were perhaps slightly confused when I told them I was Catholic, but they remained friendly. I learned about Hebrews 11 (Christ is the ultimate sacrifice), I enjoyed a delicious Myanmar lunch, and I received excellent directions to my next destination. Really, now! God not only answered my prayers about the church, he fed me lunch, too!

How awesome is that?!