A Day In Zambia
We were treading along the dusty road towards Green Hill School when Bwalya asked us if we would like to stop for a quick hike. He pulled over and we headed up the hill known by the locals as “Miracle Mountain.” As we neared the top, echoes of voices became clearer and clearer and we could hear the tunes of worship rising high above the trees. Bwalya asked us if we’d like to join in and as we neared the group of about twenty men and women, their joyful noise filled the air with clapping, dancing and singing. They welcomed us in to the circle and didn’t even laugh at us for our less than rhythmic attempts of joining them in their expressive style of worship. It was a beautifully clear, sunny day in Zambia and with one voice, we all lifted praise to our God. They didn’t know us and we didn’t know them but in the minutes that passed as we all sung together, it didn’t matter. There was a unity that ran deeper than any cultural or language barrier could prevent and a love that we had all been tethered by. And though we hadn’t even exchanged names, we already knew the truest thing about eachother – that each of us had been saved by a grace much bigger than any of us. And so we lifted our voices as one.
I don’t know why the locals call that place “Miracle Mountain”, but for each of us who were visitors that day, we experienced the miracle of the Body of Christ coming together in a way that will forever be etched in our memories. Our Zambian brothers and sisters blessed us so greatly that day and we look forward to the day we can worship with them again in heaven.
Stay tuned for more tales of adventures from our time in Zambia and also many pictures to come….
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