So grateful today for a community of writers and readers who allow the words and thoughts to flow freely – five minutes of respite together free from the Inner Editor – and publishing in a safe space following Lisa-Jo Baker’s writing prompt. Here we go #fiveminutefriday #fmfparty.
There’s a gorgeous tree just outside my window – it’s been glowing in the autumn sunlight for hours already today, yellows and glorious reds clinging on to life before the winds tear them away. It’s a far cry from the tree I’m thinking of today in the plains of Africa.
The tree I have in mind is a huge, broad tree. It’s a meeting place, a place of shelter from sunlight which is a lot harsher than the feeble rays delicately caressing the tree outside here. It’s a tree around which a whole village gathers, a place of worship, and a place of discovery. The tree I have in mind is a tree where God’s word is heard through megavoice audio players, in the mother tongue, for the first time. This tree is watching on as the first written words of this community’s language is shared. Village elders have come together to see their words in lines on a page. Historic developments. This tree heard the woman cry, ‘Say it again, say it again! That’s the first time I heard God’s word and I understand it. Say it again!’ Years of muffled misunderstanding are stripped away beneath the boughs of this tree. God is being heard clearly at last.
And beneath this tree grows a gathering of worshipers, for the first time given words to describe and praise him in return. They group and glory in him, in the place where they came to know him so intimately. He speaks their language.