I made a trip to the small town yesterday. Falling out of rhythm is never a good thing, but the rain storms make it difficult. I was able to meet with the family by the bus station and tell the story of first man and woman and the garden in Eden.
I also visited the singer and his family. He is anxious to try to make some songs out of Bible stories, but we have not set a time to begin yet. I told the same story I've been telling on Sundays. The story of Josiah and his reform. As I told about how the idols were broken and smashed into pieces and burned and spread over graveyards, they couldn't help but look to the left and right at the many little statues in their home. The woman got up and left before the end of the story. The singer thanked me for telling it.
The families on the hill weren't at home. Neither were the usual men who collect on the street to talk on the street. I am not sure what was going on, but the neighborhood was nearly empty.
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