Jesus speaks Spanish, too

This morning I was finally able to make it to church here in Madrid. My ever-amazing mother had done some emailing and somehow came up with the name of an Assemblies of God church here, so that's where I headed.

Now, on the church's website it said that pre-service prayer started at 11; worship service started at 11:30. I opted for just the worship service, though as it turned out I ended up having my own sort of pre-service prayer on the metro. That is not to say that I thought I was going to be mugged or anything; rather, I was not feeling so secure about the train itself.

Allow me to explain. Various lines have various different types of trains, some being newer, others older. The newest ones come equipped with little television screens proclaiming the wonders of taking the metro, screens to tell you what stop is coming up next and a little lady that comes over the speaker before each stop to tell you what stop it is and what other lines it corresponds with. All quite nice. In order to get to the church, I had to take a line I had never used before. This took me to a portion of my metro station that I had never been in before. Apparently you can get to the platform I needed using an elevator - which does not simply move vertically, but in a diagonal line. Not only in a diagonal line, but slowly, and with lots of creaking. As it was Sunday morning, I was the only one in said elevator, which made me nervous. I later learned that you can reach the platform via escalators as well and will choose this option for obvious reasons next time.

So I get to the platform, wait for the next train, and when it arrives it is older than any I had ridden on before. This would not have worried be the least bit had it not made the world's scariest noises while it was moving and shaken like it was possessed when it went around corners. I think at one point it gave me whiplash.

And I had to ride the thing for 7 stops. Jesus got quite the earful about this.

The church itself was in a slightly sketchy part of the city and is very small, but the people were quite nice. It is pastored by a missionary and his family, originally from Florida. They have a daughter around my age who introduced herself and the pastor insisted on making sure they had my name and contact information so that they could have me over in the next few weeks. The service was led mostly in English, with a little Spanish here and there. They had little audio things for those of whom only speak Spanish so that they could understand better.

Also, there were a couple of cute American boys, one of which is from Naperville. Small world.

All in all, good experience. Despite the scary metro ride, I will most likely return.