One of the hardest things I needed to adjust to in my years of missions/times of worship in various African churches, was the repetition.
Whether I was singing with sisters and brothers in Swaziland, Mozambique, Uganda or South Sudan, the choruses would repeat for what seemed like an eternity. And I was impatient, and hot and tired and hungry and uninterested in singing the same things over and over again.
One day, one of the choruses struck a chord in my heart and I suddenly understood the value and beauty of repetition.
At first, I had sung with gusto, picking out the harmony I could sing most comfortably and joining in the chorus of voices. We were accompanied by steady drums and an even more consistent lead singer calling out the words for us. Soon I was well-practised and enjoying the sounds, not long after that, I was bored. My singing turned to half-hearted humming and this amazing alto harmonizer was fighting the temptation to yawn.
This time around, for reasons I’ll never fully remember, the message of this particular song broke through my pride and my preferences and hit my spirit. Instead of holding back a yawn, I was fighting to keep the tears down. I can’t even remember which phrase it was, which combination of words I needed to hear, but I will never forget the depth of learning that lesson about repetition.
The same words that had been losing my interest moments earlier were beginning to minister to my heart, soul, mind and spirit. And as those words being sung out became a healing salve, I found myself truly beginning to worship.
I sang with a new passion and understanding of how meaningful those precious words were. I appreciated the collection of voices surrounding me and was grateful they had kept singing and repeating these lines because it was through the repetition that they had finally hit their mark.
I remember being surprised at the sadness I felt when the song ended and I made a mental note to never again scoff at a super long song. Of course, I still fall prey to thinking I’m above singing a certain song too long or too often but as this lesson repeats itself, thankfully, I fall back into alignment with God quicker.
Today I listened to the song Wait On You, and it took me until about the 8 minute mark to realize that I’ve been waiting for something to happen, rather than waiting on Someone.
Rather than waiting on God, my perspective has been clouded to wait for a specific outcome. And unsurprisingly, I was facing sadness and despair as I realized the outcome going just how I hoped it would, in the timing I longed for was likely not going to happen. And I spiraled.
But today, as my friend played this song out loud on her little phone, my spirit was reminded of those beautiful lessons learned on a scorching Sunday afternoon, swaying in the red dirt behind a row of plastic chairs. And I was challenged and convinced to realign with the perspective of God and to wait on him, rather than on my own plans.
“In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.”
Proverbs 16:9
May we be people who choose to wait on God and allow our own plans and ideas to come under the lordship of Christ. May we surrender or will to God, as many times as we need to, and rejoice as our waiting becomes a place of true praise to our King.