Hearing the children echo

And the children echo, and the sounds fill the empty walls of the brick church and up to the tin roof that is radiating the African sun and warming the church. The songs are carried to the heavens in the hands of angels who deliver them to the creator who in turn smiles and sends his favor to the small building on the African hillside in the small province of Umutara.

There is no thousand dollar sound system here. There is no mood lighting or worship team to help usher us into the most holy place. Just voices singing with enough conviction to make you love Jesus and want to worship even more.

You can make out only two words in the unfamiliar language, one is Jesus, and the other is their homeland Africa. Two words you know they sing most passionately about.

There are no denominations here; there are no skin differences. No language barriers are here either, for the sound is a haunting. It haunts your soul, deep into a place where no one is safe. The words are not understood, but the emotions are easily heard, their singing fills places and touches parts of your spirit that are unprepared. A haunting, so moving you begin to see less and feel more. Songs of sorrow and songs of joy; the children sing with the conviction that they’ve known both. Songs passed from generation to generation now being sung by the next generation with my hopes that their lives will glorify Christ.

What is it about children’s voices that seem to make your heart burn or ache even more than you thought was possible? What is it about the abandon and absolute everything that the children seem to sing with? Why does my heart ache to know what the words are and yet know that I probably understand more already without the lyrics?

Their songs confirm in your heart what God has been telling you for the past couple weeks. The songs replay the message He has been trying to get through to you for this next step. After seeing their faces and lives and experiences, how is it possible to return “home” and be the same? How can I not go? How can I sit back and try and turn my eyes from the need there is in the world?

What will it take for me to decide whether or not to continue giving my life to the people who have never heard? When is my breaking point when I realize the futility of the American dream and the “things” that make us happy? Will I again surrender my dreams and my goals and my desires for the life that God has for me?

I think I’m a step closer now after hearing a small children’s choir sing in a foreign language about the things they’ve experienced. Because being in this environment, away from the familiar, away from the normal church services, away from the comfortable; He is able to finally get through to us. And it is here that things become clear and answers are found.

As the song ends I clap with the congregation, wipe my cheeks and look up to see the children are still standing there. Another song begins as the worship leader sings out a verse and the process begins again as the children begin to echo…