One of my favorite things since being here is the worship. Every morning and evening at devos with the students we sing hymns. Most of my squamates are like “what is this, can’t we just sing oceans or something,” but to me it feels so familiar. Coming from a Mennonite church, hymns are what I know. Not like that’s all we sing, but it was always apart of our worship growing up. To get to hear the students, here in Myanmar, sing those songs that I grew up singing, is so beautiful to me. I always think about my granddaddy and how if he got to hear them singing these songs, he knows so well, he would just light up. 

On Sundays it looks a little different. All the worship is in Burmese. Even though I can’t understand a single thing they are saying I love to listen to them pour out their hearts to our God. Our college students are there, the orphans that live in the little houses next to ours, and even a few old women are all there. They raise their hands and voices to the Lord surrendering over all they have to him even though it’s not much. To me that makes their worship even more powerful. They truly believe that nothing is impossible with God and that it really is worth it to give up everything in order to follow him. I might not get to sing the songs with them, but I stand and listen, and let the Lord fill up my heart with his heart for them. It might be a different language but it is the same God.