The train has stopped in rural Missouri, where cell phone reception covers the countryside like disintegrating  tissue paper. In front of me, a woman is having a Sunday morning Baptist service with her cell phone.

I’ve heard “Yes Lord” nearly 300 times. “Thank You Jesus” repeated a meager 230 times. She points to the ceiling like a football player after a touchdown. “That one made it to heaven,” she says to no one in particular.

Suddenly, she pauses: “Can you hear me?” We wonder if she’s addressing God or Verizon.

6 minutes later, the call is finished. And she begins singing.