Everyday Tidbits

Still in Hungary: Yesterday, Sabbath, I spoke three times to a packed church. Obviously, the people are more compelled to come on Sabbath than on weeknights, still I am blessed with the interest that is shown every day.

Instead of Sabbath School, I was asked to tell about Eden Valley, especially the Lifestyle Center. I spoke for twenty minutes and opened it up for questions. They had no lack of queries, for forty minutes. Half a dozen of them had relatives that need to come to EVI, and they wanted to know how they could do that. I told them that it was relatively simple: All they needed to do was raise enough money for the airfare and the sessions and they could come. I don’t think that is what they wanted to hear. These people are relatively poor. I did suggest an alternative in Hergelia, Romania. (Actually, Szilard, my host, suggested it. His wife jokingly told me it would be wise not to hire him as my marketing agent.)

I spoke on “The Power of Suggestion” at the eleven o’clock service. After the service I went with Alona??, Szilard’s mother-in-law, to escort a Bible interest home. With that I got to see the heart of Budapest and the Danube. The lady we drove home was full of questions relating to health, the Bible and whether I was ever served pork by an African tribe. She tried to ascertain whether I would insult someone by not accepting what they served. (She has a big hang-up over pork, and her family is pressuring her with the idea that we are a cult and hold to foolish ideas.) The Lord gave me wisdom to deal with the situation. Now, I will get to meet with this lady and some relative on Thursday. I can’t wait!

I’m always amazed that the Lord never allows me to be so cornered that I am stumped. I do pray a lot about these things.

Today, Sunday, I did the Sabbath dishes, the breakfast dishes and the lunch dishes. (A guy has to occupy himself with something to do, doesn’t he?) I picked all the grapes (concords) in the arbor, and then Szilard and I made juice.  Afterward, we went to the church for another lecture. Today, was the last day for a small display of Ancient Bibles at the church. Afterward, they had a reception for those who came and for the curators. When I came in, I was forced (minor exaggeration) to eat three pieces of cake. I did my best to hide what great sacrifice it was.

The sermon was well rec’d again. New people almost every night. I stressed and illustrated how unreasonable it is to think we can be saved by anything we do. One lady, bless her soul, said she could listen to me all night. That is encouraging, but I think all she’d hear “all night” is snoring. The people really are very gracious. Several old ladies, (somehow that doesn’t sound right), let me try again. Several really mature women lined up to talk to Alona, Szilard’s mother-in-law, telling her what they will bring for potluck next week. The idea it seems is that they want me to try their specialty on me. I’d better not eat breakfast that day. I think the impetus came when two sweet “mature women” came with their best this week. It is probably the best lentil-whatever that I ever have tasted, and the other lady’s Hungarian Gulash?? was out of this world. I think I expressed it too heartily and now . . . the race is on.

There are a handful of non-SDAs coming to the meetings, and they seem to be sticking to it. One tall, attractive, 35 year old lady who just went thru’ a divorce, quit her job and started a photography business says she came because she is searching. Eniko is befriending her, and she seems to be soaking it all in. She sent Eniko, Szilard’s wife, an email this morning expressing how thrilled she is because I called her by name. Her name is Anita. It’s about the only name that makes sense around here.

Another: A 50 year-old single man, very good looking and athletic French teacher is looking for a wife. Nearly every day, he tells me he’s figured out what his problem is: Last night he said, he’s had two God’s, 1. The true God, and 2. an unreachable goddess, and he’s figured out that the issue is with himself—too high expectations. My theory is that men are really hard to marry after the age of 30. They know what they want, but she doesn’t exist in this world of sin.

Two ladies of high society walked into the meeting last night. I though, “Oh oh, they walked into the wrong meeting. This should be interesting.” I was sure they’d eventually walk out, but no, they stayed till the end and Eniko’s brother made sure they didn’t get away before he had a talk with them. I even saw him kiss on of them on both cheeks. Maybe he invited them.

SO NOW, HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT FOR A BLOG? ARE YOU STILL INTERESTED IN MY EVERYDAY HUMDRUM, OR SHALL I RESERVE THESE HUGE EFFORTS TO SOMETHING MEATIER? LET ME KNOW.