He Reigns

I was driving to work the other day and was blessed to hear one of my favorite songs, “He Reigns” sung by the Newsboys. I’m not sure how old the song is but every time I hear it I actually see in my mind the African plains.

For some reason the song just reaches all the sensory parts of my brain. I can smell the Amazon rain and hear the song rising over the noise. It makes me want to sing louder and love deeper in a way that I don’t always connect with on a daily basis.

Why? I don’t exactly know, but there is something extremely powerful to me in this song and the thought of coming together with other believers around the world in a grateful choir singing “Glory, Glory, Halleluiah, He reigns, He reigns.” It gives me chills.

It’s the song of the redeemed rising from the African plain.
It’s the song of the forgiven drowning out the Amazon rain.
The song of Asian believers filled with Gods holy fire.
It’s every tribe, every tongue, every nation, the love song born of a grateful choir.

(chorus)
And all Gods children singing glory, glory, halleluiah, He reigns He reigns. (2x)

Let it rise above the four winds, caught up in the heavenly sounds.
Let praises echo from the towers of cathedrals to the faithful gathered underground.
With all the bells rung from the dawn of creation some were meant to persist.
With all the bells rung from a thousand steeples, none rings truer then this.

And this is my favorite part.

and all the powers of darkness tremble at what they’ve just heard, cause all the powers of darkness can’t drown out a single word.

On that particular morning, the lyrics choked me. I kept picturing myself singing “glory, glory, halleluiah, He Reigns . . .” as a part of the grateful choir around the world like I normally do. Only this time I was holding my 16-pound little boy, Edison who is four and a half months old and standing next to a woman from West Timor holding her 15-month-old little girl, Maria, who weighs 10 pounds and hardly has the strength to eat. I couldn’t even sing with this thought in my mind.

I probably should have pulled over and parked so I had the time to sob before Jesus about this powerful picture and ask what He would have me do about it today, in this moment. Sadly, I didn’t take the time to do that as I was in a hurry, of course . . . but I suspect it won’t be long that I can outrun that time with Jesus. I know it’s coming.

For now I’m ever more grateful that Compassion allows me to do something for the women standing beside me (figuratively speaking) around the world with their babies . . . other women who don’t even know Jesus yet, women who can’t write their name and have to beg for food to feed their babies or worse than that have to watch their babies die from starvation, malnutrition, diarrhea, or whatever other illness claims their lives.

I know that I can love these women in a tangible way through Compassion’s Child Survival Program. I know that I can help churches in their area reach out to them and offer not only needed health resources and nutrition but a different life, an opportunity — and not just one but multiple opportunities. Opportunity and success helps women become more confident and confident women can raise more confident children.

Thank you Newsboys, and whoever wrote that song, for staying open to the Spirit of Jesus. I think somehow it is a picture of heaven to me. I know that I want more people in the grateful choir with me holding cute babies.