Better is One Day

“How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty. My soul longs, even faints for the courts of the Lord. My heart and flesh cry out for the living God…For better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.” (Psalm 84:1-2, 10) 

After strumming a few chords, Tenielle’s voice rang out, “How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty.” As soon as we began the first verse of the song “Better Is One Day”, I remembered reading the words to Psalm 84 just a few days earlier. “I don’t know why I keep playing this song,” Tenielle said, “But the words have just been on my heart a lot recently.”  

I have heard the song before, but this time was different.  

We weren’t in an expensive church building with a stage and bright lights. We were in Ernes’s dimly-lit small living room. 

We didn’t sit in pews, but we sank down into worn sofas. It wasn’t spacious and comfortable, but rather crowded and very hot.  

It wasn’t a planned and structured worship service from 9:00 – 10:45 on Sunday morning. It was a spontaneous lets-get-together-for-dinner-and-worship on a weekday evening. I had no idea that we were going to be there for three and a half hours, long past dark and my bedtime.  

There were no fancy clothes, just the smell of African sweat after a long day of working in the fields.  

There were two white girls, five African men, a guitar, and a big bowl of rice and sauce. Oh, and an eagerness to worship and a spirit of fellowship in Jesus.  

I watched Michael raise his hands as he sang with eyes closed. I watched George almost jump out of his chair because he was so excited when Barto started playing “Yasoma”. I watched Barto delicately, yet aggressively and skillfully finger pick on the guitar as he sang, “Many thanks, many thanks, many thanks, Oh Jesus” in English with his heavy African accent. I watched their faces light up as we began to sing “We Fall Down” in Moore. They love it when white people sing in their native tongue. And I watched Ernes lean in as Tenielle showed him the lyrics to “Better Is One Day”, and he translated them for the rest of the men. I watched Ernes’ wife bounce their baby girl on her lap as we sang.  

Then we spent some time in prayer. First we prayed for Tenielle and her mother who is sick. Then we prayed for the orphanage, church, and ministry in Yako. Then they prayed for me, asking God to give me direction and wisdom as I seek him in regards to mission work. The next prayer was for Ernes and his family since they welcomed us into their home, and the final prayer was a prayer of thanks for the day and especially for our night of fellowship and worship.  

With each prayer, they all prayed simultaneously and aloud, filling the room not with quiet, whispered prayers but with passionate, loud prayers. I don’t know what they were saying, but it was bold and powerful, and it brought tears to my eyes.  

There was no place else I would have rather been. And I don’t mean being in Africa, or Burkina Faso, or Yako, or Ernes’ humble living room. It’s not about any of that. In that evening of worship and prayer, I was in the house of God with my brothers and sisters. And one day there is better than a thousand anywhere else.  

I will never sing that song the same again. It is just one of those things that you finally understand even though you have learned it a million times. And really, I hope that I never stop gaining more and more understanding of the brilliance of being in the presence of God.  

O Lord, Almighty God, your presence is the highest pleasure. Please work in each of our hearts until we can say that and mean it with every ounce of the weight of our hearts and lives. Please draw me and all my brothers and sisters into a deeper understanding of the brilliance of your presence. Make the light of your face to shine upon us, and give us a taste of how sweet it is to be in your house. “How lovely is your dwelling place. My soul faints for the courts of the Lord. Better is one day in your house than thousands elsewhere.” Oh God, may these not just be words we read and sing, but may they be deeply rooted beliefs that shake and transform the way we spend our time and live our lives.