It's not often you're just excited about what happened at church...

I call it " the end of the day of the white man" which sounds terribly racist but in our church, the majority of new faces and younger faces are largely other than caucasian.  I love it!  Harley (spelt incorrectly I presume) hails from Liberia and I can only assume it is the land of snappy dressers.  If he's not immaculately dressed in something contemporary, he'll be in traditional African dress.  With it's blazing colours and shiny bling, it's a sight for sore eyes.

Having been an observer for some weeks, maybe months, Harley was baptised yesterday.  Flaunting protocol, all our brothers and sisters from Papua New Guinea are out of their seats and cluster around the baptismal tank. No bizarre swimming togs and white sheet tunics here.  Harley is immersed in a tank of water in his street clothes. After the baptism I notice an organised conga line forming.  I jump in and Harley handshakes and hugs his way down the line.  I get a soggy hug and a "God bless" from the Lord's newest recruit.  It's so beautiful, I have to melt back into the crowd before the tears form in my eyes.