For the second Sunday in a row, we attended services at a Pentecostal church this past weekend. This one was a 40-minute drive outside Monrovia, right off the Atlantic. (In fact, the final stretch of “road” that carried us there was a bit of hard-packed sand no more than 25 or 30 feet from the crashing waves. (Since I can’t swim, this prompted me to get an early start on my prayers.) The service was very similar to the first week, though there were two dozen parishioners this time and not … [Read more...]