Obsession

Some days I really miss Africa. Some days I really want to shop in the market, buy fresh vegetables, cook an entirely natural meal, and feed the leftovers to the chickens. Some days I want to hand-wash my own clothes and filter my water. Some days I really miss the babies, and I just want to sit with them and let them run between my legs and play with my hair. But most days, the thing that I miss the most about Africa is waking up with nothing to do but love and serve whoever comes across my path.

Here in America, I wake up with a to-do list that is already a mile long. In Africa, there wasn't that much to do, so we would sit in the courtyard, talking and laughing for hours every day. And whenever we gathered together like that, we almost always broke out guitars and worshiped. It just flowed naturally from the depths of our hearts.

Here in America, we have tons of things to devote ourselves to, millions of things to be passionate about -sports, shops, video games, diets, music artists, books, hobbies, and more. So we commit ourselves to these things and spend our time investing in them. In Africa, those types of distractions do not seem to exist or at least present themselves so strongly. This means that when people meet Jesus, He becomes their obsession.

Here in America, we satisfy boredom by going to the movies or the amusement park or the putt-putt golf course. In Africa, we entertained ourselves by grabbing some sodas and then sitting around, talking, laughing, and worshiping to the tune of the guitar. And that's what we did day after day.

When I came back to the United States, I wanted to translate part of the African lifestyle to my own life. I wanted to spend my days without a checklist, but rather with a flexible, slow-paced spirit that just enjoys being with people. I want to abandon all other obsessions in order to make Christ my obsession - the object of all my devotion, attention, affection, commitment, and enjoyment. I want to spontaneously break out into worship whenever my friends and family get together.

Which is why I was so excited when my dad got a cajon, a small, African-style drum that you sit on when you play. It is mellow, making it perfect for living-room jam sessions. For fun in the evenings, my dad sits on the cajon and I strum my guitar, and we worship, just like we did in Africa. And when my mom turned fifty years old last week, we brought the music to the party. After the cake and ice cream, we just starting worshiping, and soon enough the guests gathered around and began to drown us out with their singing.

One of the greatest memories from my time in Africa was this spontaneous, natural, and passionate worship with the Africans. They inspired me to make Jesus my obsession and worship my lifestyle. I don't want to go one day without marveling at Him, singing His praises, and inspiring others to join in and worship.