My Fourth Day

Friday, November 18, 2011

I think I’m starting to get the hang of this.

Get up at 7. (I set my alarm for 6 but slept through it again. The night before, I had the firmest of resolutions to get up in the morning, but Q had to go to the bathroom twice, and as she’s not allowed to go by herself, she woke me up to go with her, and the blast of cold air that hit me each time I got out of bed was enough to knock the sleep out of anyone. Of course, I was able to fall back asleep…just not stay mostly asleep during the trip to the bathroom. The first time it happened, I said to myself, “Ohhhh…I’m going to be tempted to not get up in the morning now.” The second time it happened, I said to myself, “Ohhhh…How am I ever going to get up?” And when the alarm rang, it was theh same old line I always fall for: “Just do your prayers in bed for a few minutes. Then you can wake up.” Eyes closed, head on pillow, “Dear God…” and Boom! The next thing I knew, it was 7:00.)

Anyway—Get up at 7, eat breakfast at 7:30 as fast as you can (4 galletas and a glass of water, for instance), have devotions at 7:45, leave for work at 8:30.

My assigned job was the kitchen in the Betel center with M and O, and we drove there without any incident.

Oh—Let me back up—my roommate Y and another girl left in the morning to go to thei airport. They are returning to their home country, Bulgaria.

In the kitchen, O set me to work washing and breaking up lettuce for salad. Once that was done, I asked what else I could do.

M, who was in charge of the kitchen, seemed to be thinking. “I guess the kitchen seems pretty relaxed today,” she finally said.

Well, this simply wouldn’t work for me. “Can I clean anything?” I asked. “Sweep the floor, wipe the counters, clean the fridge?” (I had noticed that a sign posted on the wall said that the Friday job was to clean the fridge.)

“Okay, I guess you can clean the fridge,” M said. O showed me where a bucket and a rag were, and I began wiping down the inside and outside of the fridge.

At some point during the morning, M got a call that P, A’s fiancée, had come out of the coma. “Wow… I thought. “What is God doing?”

M, the head cook, was preparing garbanzos and quail and chorizo and salad for dinner, which would be at 2:00. After finishing with the fridge, I asked her if I could help clean the quail, of which we had about 60, and they still had all the insides in them. After they were cleaned, M laid them out in a big sheet pan with some seasonings to bake in the oven.

While O was putting the chorizo (typical Spanish sausage) on a cookie sheet to go into the oven, she offered me a piece to taste.

“Um, it’s raw, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yes, but this kind is okay to eat raw,” O said. “Here, just try a little bit.”

She cut off a slice and I said, “Okaaaaay…” and ate it. Maybe it’s like summer sausage that you can eat as is, I thought. It tasted fine…actually it was quite yummy…so how could I know?

Just then, M walked in. “Why are you eating that chorizo raw?” she asked.

“Oh! Is it not okay to eat it raw?” I asked.

“You’ve got to be careful about things like that,” M continued.

I turned to O and said, “Are you deceiving me, or what?”

O showed M the kind of sausage she had given me. “Ohhh,” M said. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Whew. What a relief.

We ate lunch and then I had about an hour and a half to get on my computer and write home. I updated my blog and wrote as many emails as I could. I had at least 20 messages in my inbox. YAY!

Then it was time to clean up the kitchen, which O and I did together. We talked and she told me some of her story.

It is amazing to see the transformation God has wrought in these ladies’ hearts. O is the most cheerful, positive, giving person you could meet. You would never know that she had a messed-up past just by meeting her. There is a sparkle in her eye and a kindness in her voice that shows what a profound work God can do in a heart yielded to Him. I love her laugh, and she’s always laughing.

After we cleaned up the kitchen (which I did with much energy, due to a cup of coffee I drank just before starting), I had about 2 more hours to get on my computer, which was great! I almost got caught up on my blog.

Towards the end, I started talking to a woman named Mercedes who told me some of her testimony. She was not a Betelita but attended the Betel church and apparently knew many of the girls. Her story was very interesting.

At exactly 8:30, the church service started and went until…I didn’t check when…probably 9:30. The songs were all so meaningful, it brought me to tears. The Lord really touched my heart regarding getting up in the morning.

We went back to the house, ate dinner about 11:00 pm, and turned out the light at midnight.

Next Post: My fifth day
Previous Post: My third day
First Post: My first day