I’ve been sitting on this blog for awhile. I didn’t know why I couldn’t finish it or why I couldn’t actually write it yet.. But as of last night, I can finally release it to you.
So.. Here goes.
This month I am in Maputo, Mozambique at Beacon of Hope. This is a home for teenage boys who either are orphaned, have only one parent who is unable to raise them, or home life is not a good situation. With the Lords help, this place is developing young men of integrity, loyalty, hope, and love. They are finishing school, living in community, and enjoying these teenage years in a safe home and learning what it means to be a man of God in this society.
This place is kind of paradise.
It doesn’t look like much from a glance, but the energy, laughter, and joy that radiates from all four walls is beautiful really.
Last night as we started team time, there was a knock on the door. Two of the boys were at the door requesting we come ‘worship’ them.
{they speak Portuguese here in Mozambique… So no I don’t understand a word}
Being invited to a spontaneous worship night with teenage boys in Mozambique doesn’t happen every day… So we accepted and walked to the outdoor kitchen area where they were seated.
And then they started with a beat….
On a plastic jug…
Singing their hearts out to a song I didn’t even understand the words to.
Y’all, it was a sound and sight that brought immediate smiles and tears.
THIS IS WORSHIP.
We alternated songs between Portuguese and English so everyone knew the songs here and there… But it honestly didn’t matter.
{Worship doesn’t only happen if I understand the words or know the song by heart}
These boys were singing their heart out, not worried about how they sounded or what key they were in. They just freakin’ sang.
They bowed their heads and silently spoke to the Creator who has brought them so much hope, when I could only see how much they were lacking.
They were praying out loud so boldly that it left me speechless. They knew who they were speaking to… They KNEW the same Jesus that I speak to daily.
The Lord really doesn’t see age, but the heart.
THIS IS WORSHIP.
11 Mozambique boys on old wooden benches
With a plastic jug with a beat to sing their hearts out to
With 6 Americans sitting on tables
With a guitar in hand, praising no matter the language.
THIS IS WORSHIP.
We didn’t have creative stage designs, a worship pastor, or six instruments that had been tuned and practiced.
We didn’t have four walls to block out the chill and wind of the African fall, but still He met us there.
I met Him last night unplanned and unrehearsed.
He meets us wherever we are.
He meets us with a plastic jug and guitar,
No matter the company
No matter the location
No matter the language
No matter the song
He meets us.
THIS IS WORSHIP.
A flood of thoughts, past memories, and worship nights came rushing in and I realized how each country was stripping me more and more away from our standard thinking of worship.
I went from four pretty walls with people I understood in Arkansas
to a Haitian church with walls that invited the breeze in.
Costa Rica brought freedom through dancing, ribbons, tambourines, and full spontaneous worship.
Then Botswana brought praise through dance & celebration,
And now I’m in Mozambique surrounded by pure, raw, worship no matter the space.
I don’t need a pretty building, the Lord will meet me without it.
I don’t need a huge worship band, the Lord has given me a voice to sing.
I don’t need entertainment, the Lord is enough.
THIS IS WORSHIP.
Praise the Lord I am seeing Him in the simplest of atmospheres, because that’s where He can really shine.
Thank you Lord for stripping me down to what really matters.
So here I am to worship…
Are you ready to join me?
