Today is church. My friend and I walked the half mile uphill in the cold and rain to worship. It was glorious.
As I entered the nave, the choir was practicing. As beautiful music surrounded me, I lit candles with prayer intentions for friends, family, and neighbors.
The liturgy was in Icelandic; however, the usher gave us a warm welcome and handed me a guide to worship in English.
Grateful for the printed guide, I thought of Molly and Jennifer back at home. I was appreciative for the difference it makes to have a person sitting right beside who is familiar with the service to guide us through. The paper, though very well-intentioned, is not as helpful as a neighbor.
Worship, no matter what the language, is still centered with God, and I knew pretty much what was going on and could chime in English at appropriate moments. The sermon was preached with enthusiasm, but except for hearing Mary and Martha mentioned, I hadn’t a clue.
After worship, we walked around the corner for cappacinos and a light lunch at our favorite local coffee spot, Reykjavik Roasters.
It was a good morning.