Phenomenal

Every Thursday, the World Relief office has a devotion time. We sing a few songs and someone shares some insight from the Bible. Every week, without fail, I forget this is going to happen. It’s even more pronounced when it is my turn to lead. So this week, when one of our staff members came in to tell me that 1) it was time again for the devotions and 2) I was in charge, I wasn’t exactly sure what kind of insight I’d have. I sheepishly walked into the devotion time, and immediately started flipping through my Bible. We decided to sing Christmas songs, so I thought about just reading the Christmas story and pondering that miracle. But, as usually happens, something else caught my eye.

In Luke 1, Mary bursts out into song. I kind of wish that I had been there, to see this very young woman (probably younger than me) either recite this beautiful poem, or start to sing in the middle of the day. Did everyone look at her like she was crazy? Did they sing along? Who wrote it down? Would she remember it later and be embarrassed? She doesn’t really pull any punches at the beginning: My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant (Luke 1: 47-48a). What a thing to say!

I started to think about this young lady, and the fact that her response to an unexpected and potentially shameful pregnancy was this song. Then I realized that she’s not reacting to the nine months of waiting, or the pain of labor, but to something wholly different. This kid is going to change her life. She will have to raise this child, care for him, and the whole time she’ll know she’s doing it because God asked her to, and though she probably knows that all babies are a miracle, she’s got the inside scoop that this one is the Messiah. She has been chosen for something, has a purpose that includes this very unique task. Of course she should be singing!

So then, of course, being incredibly selfish, I started to think about my own response to something like this (not that I’m having any children over here, I just want to make that clear). When God calls us, we get the inside scoop on something transformative. We are always called to a purpose, to something very unique. Over the past few months, I’ve been a bit whiny about how that purpose is hard, and how it includes some things that are difficult for me (that would be what I mean when I say that I am “incredibly selfish”). I’m sure Mary had her moments, too, and they probably weren’t pretty. Yet, she also has this great song to go back to, to remember the feeling of being chosen. He has been mindful, she says, of the humble state of His servant. Later, she sings, for the Mighty One has done great things for me—holy is his name (v. 49).

As I sit here on a Saturday morning in Cambodia, drinking my coffee and listening to the sounds of this new country, I am thinking about how phenomenal it is. How incredibly wonderful that out of all the people He might’ve used, I get to be here, working with amazing people, riding on motorbikes, in the dust and the rain, with the mosquitoes and the mangoes, learning a new language, discovering a culture, finding new friendships, being homesick, feeling stretched, feeling loved. This time here, it will change me, just like that long-ago moment did for Mary. My whole life will be different, simply because I’ve been here and done this. It is a miracle, I think, that God lets us in like that, invites us to participate in something extraordinary. In this moment, my soul glorifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior. How can I do anything other than sing?