So where's the snow?

Muddling through in Austria, God and life, teaching and gardening plus the occasional cow


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We went to church at Mariapfarr last Sunday, where the Protestant church has a holiday service during August for the holiday makers – and in the Catholic church too!  It was a lovely morning, the light in the sanctuary and the flowers are always beautiful.

I find the sermons difficult, but when we got to communion there were some new faces as we formed a circle at the altar.  A couple came up very slowly, he was being supported by his wife, as he had a walking stick and his hands were shaking.  As the pastor began, she burst into sobs and everyone just froze. I didn’t know what to do either and during the communion I prayed in tounges for their healing.  We then returned to our seats and at the end of the service the couple left and wandered to the back of the church.  I wanted too much to go and offer to pray with them, but oh, the flippin language.  No one went after them, then a lady who we’ve known since we were here said to me, I must talk to them. We shot off but it was difficult, the woman had her barriers up and we learnt they’d lived here for nine years and where and they know where the usual monthly service was, maybe they’d come and they left.

I was so annoyed with myself, that I hadn’t offered to pray because of the language.  But maybe it would have been too soon, this is another culture. I felt so sad that I could say so much but not in German.  I will sit down as soon as the Burg is finished and study harder.  Maybe it was too soon, and I feel we’ll see them again.

Then it dawned on me, God had sent me with one of the few people who were there who could have translated for me as as she speaks English.  Why does it take so long for the penny to drop?

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