I am so immensely loved. Jesus, Your love, Your life, Your joy - You amaze me, my Savior. I praise You.
It rained on us this morning towards the end of the first session. A fistful of chilliness came rushing down on us through the tops of the trees, and when we looked up, we saw the low, gray sky moving in. So, we gathered up our drums, guitars, and ourselves, and headed across camp towards the only empty shelter, a slightly leaky hut on a hill beside the lake. From there, we held a magnificent view of the rainy masses thundering steadily towards us, like an army sweeping battalion by battalion onto the battle field. The children huddled close together in jackets and sweatshirts quickly pulled from empty cabin rooms and watched in silent awe the power of creation, all the while doing their best to evade the dripping spots as much as possible. When the silence grew tiresome, they requested a repeat of the story of the princess and the frog. It was the girls who first asked, and I wasn’t quite sure what the boys would think of the idea, so I turned to them with the question, “Do you want to hear a story about a princess?” American boys might have hesitated, thinking it would seem unmanly to be interested in such a tale, but not these boys! “Yes, Auntie!” they enthusiastically replied. So, I told the story. I have never had a better setting or a more rapt audience.
The downpour dissolved before lunch, and the sun burst out with a brilliance that seemed intent on making up for the grimness of before. The two made a lovely contrast. In the meantime, we’d happily found the time to finish preparations for a surprise treasure hunt planned for tomorrow. And, with the sun shining once more, we got to follow through with the water balloon fight we had prepared for everyone, younger kids, older kids, Brits, and Westerners all included! It was fantastic fun filled with cheerful screaming and laughingly-uttered threats, and I’m sure you can imagine we all ended a bit wetter than when we’d begun.
After drying off (ie: changing shirts, but the drenched jeans sadly didn’t have a substitute), we ate, then prepared for our evening of presentations. All the things the kids have been practicing they got to perform tonight in our main hall. It was filled to the brim with rather disorderly rows of plastic chairs, and at a word, the groups would tromp up on-stage to perform as quickly as possible before bashfully scampering back to their seats. And this from children who have sung and danced before hundreds! I found it quite amusing. Jon and I directed music again for our four groups, and they did a marvelous job. We also got to watch the older children (the Brit’s groups) perform short skits, songs, and dances, all of which they’ve created in the past four days. Very impressive! Abraham, Barnett, and Henry were even called up to do a short traditional dance - the, uh, “butt shaking” one actually. The kids positively howled with laughter.
To start off the performances, the Brits had showed a five-minute movie clip of pictures and verses made into a love letter from God to us. It provided the perfect intro to the songs I got a chance to share, once again, with the children. Into the hush of a large group of very silent children, I sang first the Kinyarwanda song (as some of these children hail from Rwanda), and then the Luganda song. It was so quiet, and then they just erupted in cheering and clapping all the way back to my seat. I was touched, my Lord - albeit, a bit embarrassed. To see their hearts so moved . . . moved me. I thank You, Jesus. I praise You for this opportunity to share.
The man who was filming for the evening (a man in his forties, I would guess, who I also learned later is the cook at the MFL school) came up to me afterwards and said, “God bless you,” with such a big smile on his face. He said the song made him cry. A group of older girls (one of which, if you remember, was Rachel, who “preached” at the bonfire) thanked me for the song, then quite energetically encouraged me to sing more in Luganda - to even learn the language - and to go back to America and record the song so I could send it back to them. My Lord, it was such a support for me to hear these children urging me to do exactly what You had already put in my heart to do once I return to the States.
But nothing moved me more - as Karim’s silently offered piece of candy had in Rwanda scant weeks ago - than when Douglas saw me. He is the same Douglas who wears a funny little black hat and who was sick not so many days ago. He looked over at me and said simply, “I’ve never heard a mzungu (“white person”) sing in my own language before.” It was as if all the children of Africa looked up at me with that one sentence and said, “We just want to be loved. Will you love us?” And, oh, God . . . that is why I sang. To be able to touch these precious children in the deepest way possible through music in words that they understand in their hearts. To give them this small gift that You have given me - and through the gift, to show them that they are most sincerely, most deeply adored. To be able to share with them in the language they know the truth of Your love and care for them . . . I thank You so very much, Jesus.
Dear Emma came to give me a big hug - and carry out my guitar again. He carries my guitar everywhere - he is not the first willing volunteer for this task - and it is a simple token of his appreciation, and I am touched. He came to sit by me at lunch earlier, while I was on the wall eating with a group of other mzungus. The dear child steered himself over and plopped down right next to me as if he couldn’t possibly belong so well in any other place at camp.
The children came for their goodnight hugs, and then we had to leave - and so hurriedly too! - as it was late and it had been rather a long day. So there you have it - a God-blessed day of moved hearts . . . of touched lives. May we be changed to become more like You. Your character, Jehovah, is magnificent. Your plans and the work You put into motion is so fascinating, so fantastic. I stand in awe of You tonight - of what You have done, what You are doing, what You will do.
* Note from today: Since returning to the States, God has given me the opportunity, not once, but twice, to share the Luganda song with children from Uganda who have come here to Nebraska with different choirs to sing and raise awareness for their brothers and sisters back home. Each time I sing for the children in their language, I am deeply blessed, and I praise God that He has allowed me to continue singing to the African children even back here in America. As of right now, I have not gone to the studio to record the song for the children, but I have complete confidence in God that He will provide the opportunity when His time is right.
