Friday church was packed. I sat Indian-style on the mat next to a bald, spunky toddler in an orange and black dress with bold pink lace trim. On my other side, a grandmother wiped her grandson’s nose with a ripped paper, then flung the wad out the window. On the men’s side of the auditorium, a wolf spider ran across the mats from man to boy to man. Finally, one man squashed it. I chuckled through the whole introduction, musing on how this would never happen in North America.
Then, our pastor came up to read God’s Word. In the beautiful Bangla language, he shouted out, “Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth! Serve the LORD with gladness; come before Him with joyful songs. Know that the LORD is God. It is He who made us, and we are His. We are His people, the sheep of His pasture. Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise…”
With tears in my eyes, I smiled at the bald toddler’s mom and the grandma, and thanked God for letting me shout His praises in this part of “all the earth.”