Sunday, February 3, 2013

kumbaya

{via tumblr}
it's more than three syllables, more than a simple campfire chants with guitars and jean shorts. it's more than that.

:: kumbaya. 
come by here. 

it's the word my soul speaks in the darkness when i'm reaching out into seeming nothingness and i'm empty and the dark night of soul is pressing in tighter and tighter.

:: kumbaya

it's the dance of the soul bathed in light as joy comes bringing in the morning with a laugh and a whisper of better things, beautiful things made new like He promised.

:: kumbaya

it's a silly song, one that every little child can sing by the time they've seen five summers. the words are used to mock, even, those who seem to want to lower weapons and hold hands across enemy lines. but it's more than that.

{via pinterest}
:: kumbaya
oh Lord, come by here. 

it's the rings in the tree, repeated and widened year after year. it's that knitted line in the scarf, threads woven by hand that speak of love when wrapped around neck and palms. it's the sacred footsteps of the seeker who has nothing left, the nomad who wanders the desert to find the spring of water and sits in the shadow of Him that sees.

for I have stood in the presence of the God who sees me.

kumbaya.
a word transforming.

it is come by here, Lord. it's a little girl crying come find me, Daddy. 

and El Roi, the God who sees, Abba Daddy. oh, He comes running.

it's more than a firelight song. it's a heart's burning cry.

it's the breath of our lungs.

::kumbaya::


11 comments:

  1. the God who sees--the name I call on so very frequently these days. So thankful that the God who sees is powerful and good, and for me.

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  2. Oh, yes, indeed. More than a simple campfire song. I've never thought of the origin of the word, Rachel, but now I am wondering--is id African? Because we had a visiting minister from Africa who sang with us in a home group once and that man knew how to make simple words into a cry of love and passion for the Lord. He grew so frustrated with our tame clapping :). He drummed on his Bible and said, "Man, in Africa, when we sing...we rock!" This is what your post makes me remember. Thank you.

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  3. Now that's a version of Kumbaya that I can get into it. Thanks for sharing this beautiful prose/poetry.

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  4. Oh, that is simply beautiful! I remember singing Kumbaya in church but had no knowledge of what it meant.

    Your poem liberates that word, that song - "Come by Here" - and how you knit and what you want your knitting to do - you explain it exactly!

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  5. wow - you have transformed this song forever for me, Rachel. But you are really good at finding the beauty in so many things.

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  6. and God shall come to us like the rain. Emmanuel. God-with-us.

    love this. you are beautiful.

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  7. El Roi is a favorite name of mine for God. Love your words here. Visiting from SDG.

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  8. What a beautiful meditation. El Roi -- the God Who sees me. Yes!

    Blessings to you.

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  9. someone's crying, Lord. kumbaya.

    that's the one i sing most.

    love this post.

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I look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise, and I wish I could sink my hands into your flesh and light lanterns along your spine so you know there's nothing but light when I see you. :: Shinji Moon