Nia grabbed her hat and her notebook and pencil.
"Make sure to get all the particulars: the names of the hymns, speakers, and the number of people who go forward. And do your best to interview Mr. Roberts."
"Yes, Mr. Morgan."
Nia had always felt a little afraid of the newspaper's editor. Recently, though, she'd noticed a softening in her boss. And it was seemingly due to the Welsh revival. Not long after it had begun, the editor had made a couple of surprising changes: space was made for a weekly article about the revival on both the front and back pages. Unheard of in the history of the newspaper. I am going to see Mr Roberts with my own eyes, and witness these strange events for myself. Something beyond her editor's orders was drawing her to the meeting.
***
Nia walked quickly through the drizzle, past gray stone cottages and shops towards the chapel. Many others were headed in the same direction; their faces serious and determined, almost as though they were going to an urgent appointment. Perhaps they were.
Before reaching the chapel, Nia heard it: the sound of angelic voices singing. It felt as though the music was enveloping the town.
***
Nia found a seat right at the back of the crowded building. She began to take notes straight away. After all, she was there to work. Her pencil moved quickly across the page: At least one hundred people; men, women, a large number of young people, mostly young men. They are singing Calon Lân. Unbelievably beautiful. For a long while, she wrote only the names of the lovely songs down, her heart warming as she listened. Bread Of Heaven, Hyfrydol, Bro Aber, Gwahoddiad, Arwelfa...people praying, begging for the souls of others, tears and mourning. People calling out to God for forgiveness and mercy...
***
She recognized Mr. Roberts from the photo recently featured in the paper. Surprisingly, he didn't preach. He did pray though. Nia observed him as he moved about the chapel, speaking to people before he prayed for them. It would seem as though the Spirit of God is in control...everything is orderly, no chaos so far, about twenty souls have made a decision for Jesus...A tear fell on the words, and then another. Before too long, Nia could write no more. The heavy burden of her sin threatened to overcome her as she bowed her head. Please be merciful to me, a sinner. Please, be merciful to me. She groaned out loud. Someone laid a hand gently on her shoulder. "His grace is also for you. Won't you come? Jesus is waiting."
***
The following day, Nia wrote her article. No, she hadn't managed to interview Mr. Roberts, but what she did get was vastly more precious. Joy rose within her heart, along with a stirring song: Here is love, vast as the ocean....
***
Dear Reader,
His grace is also for you. Will you come?
You may like to start reading the Bible at the Book of John. You may e-mail me if you have questions.
"Here is Love, Vast as the Ocean," was the great love song of the Welsh revival of 1904. Link (Well worth listening to.)
Translated from my original Afrikaans story, "'n Walliese Herlewing." Link
Photo credit: José Llamas. Unsplash.
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