“So give me a song to sing, and I will sing it for you.” – Will Reagan and United Pursuit
A few evenings ago, I was sitting on a giant rock that overlooks a beautiful valley. This rock is a prime quiet time spot. We live in the middle of the mountains, and the view is spectacular. The sun was setting in from of me, painting the skyline a brilliant pink. I was typing up a report that team leaders have to turn in every week, but I kept getting distracted by the glory in front of me. Then I noticed the reflection on my computer screen, and turned around to see the full moon rising behind me.
Life is really beautiful, isn’t it?
Living and working at El Shaddai Children’s Home in Swaziland certainly makes it hard to miss the extreme beauty of creation. We’re perched on a mountaintop, with mountains and valleys and farmlands all around us. We’re an hour by rough dirt road from the nearest town, and there’s so much beauty in this seclusion. It’s a reminder that we are surrounded by a life worth living, even in the hard circumstances. We’re living and working with orphans, and kids who have parents but have come from backgrounds more traumatic than I can imagine. Life has been hard on them, but they’re making the most of what they have now. They live in a community founded on God’s love, surrounded by His beautiful creation, and they’re finding how much joy there is in that.
There’s a song I really love by Will Reagan and United Pursuit. It says, “So give me a song to sing, and I will sing it for you.” I love singing along to that song because it always makes me think about what that means, asking God for a song to sing. You ask Me for a song, but I’ve already given you one. Life is your song. Are you singing it?
Am I?
I would like to think that I am this year. This journey has been an incredible song, and most of the time I’ve been singing it for all it’s worth. This year, my life song has been the laughter of kids on the soccer field, the sun rising to greet me on three different continents, the unity of believers that’s stronger than any language barrier. It’s the crashing of the three different oceans I’ve lived next to, the soul-deep worship of African orphans, tears of celebration and separation, and confronting fears. It’s learning to sing the song God’s given me through the mountaintop moments and also the times where nothing seems to fit like I want it to. Wow, God. You’ve given me such a beautiful song.
But what about life outside of the World Race? God didn’t give me a World Race song to sing, He gave me a life song to sing. What about when I struggled to follow my calling and didn’t know what God was asking me to do? When I felt like I was never going to find my place in life? What about as I prepare to leave the security of Race life and move into the next season?
In those moments, am I really singing the song God gave me, or am I just letting it play in the background?
It’s made me think about all the things we ask God for that we already have. God, show me that you’re real. Give me a reason to love you. I need proof that you love me. I’ll serve you if you only give me an opportunity. If you want me to dedicate my life to you, tell me where to go.
I have already given you everything you’re looking for.
I’ve given you a thousand reasons – they surround you every day.
I’ve walked beside you every day of your life. Doesn’t that show you My love?
If you’re dedicated to Me, wherever you go is where I’ve sent you.
It’s easier this year to be inspired to live every day like we actually want to be in it. We’ve lived in 11 countries, on 3 continents. We’ve made new, deep friendships every month, and are constantly exposed to fresh faces, new experiences, and different scenery. But the reality is that the World Race really is just life, and life after the Race should be lived with the same depth and commitment. My investment in life should be the same whether I’m changing countries every 3 weeks or working the same job for 10 years.
It’s all the same song, there are just a lot of different verses. And I want to sing them all.
