It was an interesting day on Sunday. Stephen and I were home in the morning because we decided to go to evening church (by far, the bigger event). I looked out at my neighbor’s house across the street and noticed the signs of an impending party- tables, chairs, and a band with four 4-foot tall speakers setting up in the front “yard” of the house. Inwardly I cringed; I know what was to come- I don’t know the decibels, but I do know that when this happens, Stephen and I usually have to yell at each other inside our house to be heard.
In the afternoon, I made bread and listened to an American pastor from the church in Alabama that had just been here the few days before. He spoke on Romans 12, with a specific emphasis to me “Bless those who persecute you. Don’t curse them; pray that God will bless them”; not just be nice to them, but rejoice with them. I knew that this evenings plans were not a persecution to me, but my thinking can get skewed in a situation like this.
The music started at 4:20, during the skype with my parents, and we headed out the door at 5:15 for church. As we walked out, I said, “I choose to bless them not to curse them”, hoping that this “post-it “ message would stick in my brain and my heart.
Church, here, is loud but we expect that now. But as we were walking home from church, we heard the party from three long blocks away. “I choose to bless them, not to curse them.” As we approached the house, we realized that the volume has been turned up and people were dancing. I took the time to go wish my neighbor happy birthday. She told me that it was not her birthday, but her sister’s birthday. They were celebrating the 50th birthday of her deaf sister.
All the sudden, the noise had a purpose and a name. She was feeling the music as she was dancing and enjoying her friends. I returned to my house feeling not just tolerant of the noise, but happy for her.
I went into our house, and while I was preparing dinner, I opened a drawer and a grey-brown mouse scurried back into hiding. I told Stephen and he came in, and pulled everything out of the cupboard and drawers. I went to get Tito, my cat, and was shoving her in the cupboard, when I heard someone yelling, “Buenas!” over the sound of the music. I went to the door, and my neighbor and her sister had plates of food for us, and cuts of cake. What a blessing!
They came into our house, Stephen was without a shirt, I was in my nightgown, the cat in the cupboard, and there was stuff all over the floor in the kitchen. I am not sure how all of that interaction went, because I felt scattered, but it was a good connection with our neighbors-smiles all around.
The music lasted for about another hour, and I can honestly say that I was happy for her experience!
PS: Tito never did get the mouse and was a little irritated with the music!