Written by Michael M.
I was humbled, to say the least. After leading a few western worship songs this Ethiopian youth group was showing us another glimpse of how beautiful our God is. Glory was pouring forth from a packed room in Addis Ababa last night with chants, clapping hands, African drums, and a guitar drowned out by praise so loud no heart could ignore it. The passion was so strong, and the music so powerful my heart was taken in worship even though I didn’t understand a word of the beautiful melody.
I was humbled, to say the least. After leading a few western worship songs this Ethiopian youth group was showing us another glimpse of how beautiful our God is. Glory was pouring forth from a packed room in Addis Ababa last night with chants, clapping hands, African drums, and a guitar drowned out by praise so loud no heart could ignore it. The passion was so strong, and the music so powerful my heart was taken in worship even though I didn’t understand a word of the beautiful melody.
This was a sweet taste of heaven. People from many nations gathered together praising God as the body of Christ. Despite the obvious difference in skin, language, and ability to keep a beat, we were all brothers and sisters in that room last night and forever will be.
And as the lights inconsistently shine of the circle of redeemed swaying and clapping together, I smile, so willingly humbled.
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