Vineyards, Airports and Groceries

I visited the London Vineyard in Putney on Sunday and it was really incredible. I walked in and was greeted with a green welcome basket, and two lovely English-accented people. They asked about Seattle, a bit of my story, etc. I went to sit down in the "sanctuary" - they meet in a school so I'm guessing this room is the cafeteria - and immediately started crying. I cried the entire way through worship, the 5 minute break (where they came around with donuts), the message (which was on Acts 17:16-34 and touched on just about every major area of my life that needed speaking to) and the word time (in which the pastor and his wife each got words pertaining to me and a lovely English woman came up to pray for me).
What was the most incredible about this was how it made me feel - really feel - for the first time my need and indeed my desire to be part of The Church (not specifically this one, but the Church as the Bride and Body of Christ in general). The last sermon I heard at the Seattle Vineyard was my pastor talking about how the culture's message to the church, lately, is "shut up" and how he doesn't want to be ashamed of the church - he doesn't want to be caught on That Day with the attitude akin to saying "Jesus, you're bride is an ugly hoe" (yes, he actually said this!). The last sermon (called "What's in a Name?") they've got up on the website at my church is about naming, and in it there is a line that says "It is not accident that you are part of the family of God." I was overwhelmed with "thank you" that I am part of this family. I have never connected in worship the way I connected there, and am ever grateful for that, since that whole worship thing is something I've been struggling a lot with. The worship also made me miss my church back home - not becuase it was worse (or better), but because it was similar. It opened my eyes to what a extravagent blessing the Seattle Vineyard really is in my life. Thank you Jesus.

Indeed it prepared me a bit for a slight-turned-large mishap. I stayed afterwards for tea (of course) and had a lovely conversation about the (lack of) separation of church and state with an Englishman. He then helped me get back on the right tube to go catch a flight. I got back to Notting Hill, prayed with Marta for a bit (she got a word for me: "beaty for ashes", among other amazing things) and was off to the Gatwick Airport...sort of. I stood at the bus stop for about 45 minutes, knowing that the train from the London Victoria Station (45 minutes away from where I was) takes half an hour and the close of my check-in time was fast approaching. Two buses of the number (but not the destination) I wanted passed by. I finally caught a "52 to Victoria" and began to realize, as traffic blocked the route at every turn, that I was going to miss my flight. I caught the 5:00 Gatwick Express and arrived at the airport at the close of my check-in time, getting to the counter two minutes too late. They had to change my flight (and of course, charge me a fee) to the next available flight with room, leaving me with about 15 hours at the Gatwick Airport. What was amazing is that I did not freak out. I simply called the lady I'm staying with, informed her that I would not be in Belfast again until the next morning and wandered around the airport for some food and...a chapel! I read a lot of their brochures and, since sleeping, if you're traveling alone, is technically leaving your baggage unattended, I began to pray. I remembered that the friend who dropped me off at the airport in Seattle gave me a church directory for 2008 so I began praying for each person in there as well.
After check-in and security the next morning, they pretty much turn you loose on the plane and you can enter either the rear or the front, and it's a free-for-all to find a seat (they do not assign seats). I, of course, wanted an aisle so I'm not trapped in by two strangers in case I want/need to get up. I got back to Belfast around 11am and, after a 45 minutes drive to Saintfield (where I'm staying), Sally took me "foodstuffs" shopping.
My reward for my crazy ordeal: fruit that has not been messed with - it is smaller but SO much tastier and I can feel that it is healthier, rice milk (rice milk and almond milk are the more common (and more YUMMY) alternatives to "soya" (soy) out here), and goat's cheese (a cheese I cna eat WITHOUT at stomacheache!), hummus from a tin, IRISH potatoes and four kinds of fruit juice. Teehee.