The Song of Africa
I wish you could hear it for yourself because most of the magic is gone by the time I constrain it to words in black and white.
But, here the soil is red, stained from the blood red passion that pumps in the hearts of the people.
Radiant faces greet me.
Flashing white teeth gift me with smiles.
Children invite me to play their games, patiently teaching me how to play with bottle caps and ash-drawn lines.
Strong, rich voices waft through the air harmonizing perfectly with one another amidst the daily chores.
Bodies move fluidly, almost flying, with perfect timing to the music almost convincing me that their dance is creating the music.
Here I am learning to live. Life is full. Life is simple.
Time does not exist. It’s as if we have entered a premature eternity. Relationships take precedence over everything and everything else will simply happen when it happens.
Laughs are richer, smiles more dear, because they are all we have to give one another.
I am learning from them that to live is to give, and to give things that matter most. Things that cannot be tallied on a paper.
I am learning from them:
To give respect and honor.
To give joy and laughter
To give thoughtfulness
To give encouragement
To give attention
To give time
To give song and dance withholding no part of self.
The song of Africa is teaching me to dance.
(This month my team is working with Christ is Our Hope Church in Kampala, Uganda. Pastor Ronnie and his wife Joy along with their six children have graciously taken us into their home, family, and ministry.
We have been preaching in the church services, leading Bible studies, sharing the Gospel, praying for the sick, playing with kids. and mostly living life with whoever comes across our path.)
