Wa ajabu.

By On Wednesday, 09 March 2016 08:56
Wa ajabu.

The very first time I came to the Satpm service, my sister and I sat a few rows from the lectern. I had come at her invitation thus I automatically sat where she sat. I do not recall exactly how many rows to the front we were, maybe three or two. All that mattered then was that I had successfully steered clear of the role of ‘the insubordinate invitee’ by explicitly agreeing to her seat choice, Hehe.

The praise and worship team was on the dais leading in song, mostly English songs. Songs I had heard on radio. I noticed the huge projector screen and  smiled to myself knowing I wouldn’t have to mumble words. It’s like I was in high school again, I needed lyrics to a song. This time they were being offered freely.  Whoever put the projector in place ensured I pledged the right words of allegiance to the most high.

My attention soon drifted to the seat arrangement. In my eyes the seats looked lustrous, fragile and quaint. They are closely arranged as though they were meant to spell out fellowship; when we sat down we touched our neighbors. Reminded me of 1 John 4:20; If someone says, "I love God," and hates his brother, he is a liar; for the one who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen’.  We were in communion.

The seats further looked like they would want to be sat on thoughtfully, as though they would be offended if you slumped on them. They looked poised and progressive too. So progressive they would possibly have approved leg crossing.

 While everyone worshiped and sang along I stood absorbing the environment like I wanted to be integrated in it before I could participate. You know like a newbie, Hehe.

The music’s tempo slowed down and a new song was introduced; wa ajabu. I had never heard it before so I thought it to be an own composition. Soon I was drawn into the motions and I sang along, rather I mouthed the words. Then we got to that almost silent sing off bit where the instruments draw to a stop and it’s just the voices and that’s when the intensity of the words hit me.

Ajabu in English is wondrous. Which isn’t such a dramatic word, but when you tell someone/thing it’s wonderful over and over you are bound to pause to think what it is really they are wonderful for. And then it occurred to me that I at times don’t fully conceptualize how big and great our God is.

That he holds the whole world in his hand and still cares enough not to let me fall. When am having a bad day, he reminds me that even before i was formed in my mother's womb he knew me. And further that even though there is strife everywhere he is still wonderful and good.

It came to mind that even when we think God is silent to our prayer/cry he is still working something out. In activity like when the instruments stopped doesn’t mean that we are alone. In such moments we are reminded to still praise him for he still is causing everything to work together for good to those who love him and are called according to his purpose.

Truly, wa ajabu.

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