Language Lessons

Merry Christmas! It’s a week to celebrate! A birthday week!

I kicked off birthday week last Sunday by standing in front of a sweaty church full of SiSwati-speaking South Africans, telling them we were all going to speak the same language that day.

They’ve heard me try to pronounce the name NhlaNhla and have seen me ask repeatedly how to say the same things…  So they didn’t have a lot of confidence in me preaching in fluent SiSwati that morning.

I told them we would start speaking the language of Thanksgiving.

Just like infants practice mirroring faces, gestures and sounds… That’s how we would start speaking Thanksgiving.

We stood up together and read line-by-line a psalm of Thanksgiving in SiSwati. (Psalm 100) We gave thanks through song and dance… and Thank You Jesus for that dancing in Your House. We spoke thanks through talking Truth.

We dwelled on the most commonly recited and most commonly glazed-over Truth that reminds us we have reason to be thankful in all things:

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” John 3:16

“Nkulunkulu walitsandza live nkanga waze wanikela ngeNdvodzana yakhe lezelwe yodwa, ukuba ngliyohaloya akholwa ngiye angabi nekubhubha kodvwa abe nekuphila lokuphakadze.” Johane 3:16

We gave all our thanks to a God who gives so deeply, so completely, so extravagantly. The author of the language of Thanksgiving. The very reason to speak it.

We didn’t gather to say, “thank you”.  We didn’t gather to open up our pockets and just give. We gathered to speak thanksgiving.

Anyone is capable of just giving.

If anyone is aware of her capacity to give, it’s an American standing in front of a House of orphaned and vulnerable children.

I could give them every material thing I have. And I would love to.

I could kiss them until my lips fell off and pour out every ounce of love within me. And I try to.

But if the source of giving is not love, then we’ll all end up with dry bones.

Dry bank accounts, dry lips and dry bones.

Anyone is capable of giving. But giving without love dries you out.

Anyone who loves can’t help but give.

If you love, you give. Love compels us to give.

Take that and rewind it back to your favorite memory verse…

For God SO LOVED the world THAT HE GAVE His one and only Son…

When we started speaking Thanksgiving together on Sunday, I believe it opened us up to give and receive that “so loved” kind of love.

It opened me up. Dry parts turned into fountains.

And there’s room for that dried out part of you to open up and flow freely too.

God can’t help but give because He loves you so much.

He is desperate for you to have eternal life.

No one has to have an eternity of dry lips, dry bones, or dry anything.

He so loved us that He gave us access to Living Water… and chap stick!

The more I started speaking out about His love, the more I wanted to give it to my church. And to His favorites.

And then a handful of you, who love so big, were compelled to give too. And, together, we made books that tell the most perfect story of giving. The story where the “Once upon a time” and the “Happily ever after” are bound up and sealed with True Love’s kiss in John 3:16.

On Sunday, I got a little wound up talking about the birth day that changed humanity and that flooded our eternity with Living Water.

Many people in the culture don’t know when their birthdays are. And there aren’t birthday parties. Or birthday cakes. Or birthday anythings.

They started in shock. They don’t speak birthday. So I started demanding  “Hallelujah’s”. I started begging for the “Amens” for the eternal life, the best birthday gift ever.

And then I threw a birthday party. Right then and there.  A party that didn’t require speaking birthday. It required speaking Thanksgiving. It required speaking the praises of the One who so loved the world that He gave eternal life.

Can I get an AMEN!?!

I asked them to stand up and sing “Happy Birthday Jesus” together. I couldn’t help but giggle at how awkward it was for this white America to lead a birthday song for Jesus with people who have never heard the birthday song with their name in it.

And then, they sang it again on their own.

And again.

I finally had to interrupt them to move on to the next practice round of speaking Thanksgiving.

What’s a birthday party without a paper chain? We called it our banner of Thanksgiving. Everyone added a link with a prayer of thanks written on it. We sang worship songs of thanks while we created the combination party décor and banner of thanks.

I could see the thankfulness starting to flood them. Smiles started to replace sorrows of daily life here as our common language rose to the heavens.

Construction paper and crayons crashed through the typical formality of a Sunday morning to create a tangible and festive proclamation that we can speak Thanksgiving together and in every circumstance.

 

And then I told them there was cake.

For that, they freely offered up their “Hallelujah’s” and “Amen’s”!

And then I told them there were gifts – Christmas stories and crayons for every child. And for every family who didn’t have a child.

I wanted to lavish free celebration on these people that I love, to give them a tiny, chocolate-covered taste of God’s love – with sprinkles!

Every family in my church now has a book written in English and SiSwati. They’ve all been to a birthday party now. And now they all have the story to know why it’s worth celebrating. I asked them to read the story aloud every night this week as a family. The gospel is penetrating homes and hearts throughout Mbonisweni as we speak.

He is so good.

He loves so much.

So much that He gives eternal life.

Together, me, you and the orphaned and vulnerable children in South Africa are trading in our dry bones, our dry hearts, and our dry lips for Living Water, eternal life and True Love’s kiss.

Celebrate THAT on Christmas Day.

  

Check out the birthday party I had with Lifa!