noise.

silence....

Whoa! Oh! OH!
Caw! Caw! Caw!
Ruffruffruffruffruff.  Ruff!  Ruff!  RUFF!
Hoot.  Hoot.
Whoa! Oh! OH!
Toooooot!!!  Toooooot!!!
Caw!
Ruffruff!
Ra-er, ra-er!
Wop, Wop!  Wop!
WACK!!!
Tootootootootootoo!
Tweet, tweet.  Tweet, tweet.
Coo, coo, coo.
Cock-a-doodle-do!
Whoa! Oh! OH!

silence.

I never would have thought that living in the bush can be so noisy.

The smallest noise becomes so loud when it is silent most of the time.  A tree branch falling on my tin roof yanks my heart out of my chest and I jolt up from my sleeping position.  "What was...oh tree branch."  And I lay back down.

The Lewis dog, Samson, is our best night guard.  He barks, and my eyes open.  "Is it a snake bark? Does it sound different?"  My eyes scan out the windows, as best they can without seeing clearly, as my glasses are one foot away and outside the mosquito net, for signs of a flashlight.  None?  Rolling over and back to my dreams.

Then, there's a sudden burst of people--wailing.  I stop sleeping and ask myself, "Is that close or far away?  Is that funeral mourning wailing, or is it drunk man wailing?  Will have to find out in the morning."  And I shut my eyes again.

Or there's the hooting and wooting and whoa-ing of those celebrating and koroting.  That's a constant noise for several hours.  My brain has pretty much learned to acknowledge the celebration as I put my head on my pillow and then, thankfully, tunes out the shouts and singing and clapping.

The thing, though, that has pulled my heartstrings lately is the lack of one noise amongst all the other noises.

Silence might be golden.  But here, silence is the norm.  Noises come and go and are always signs of something happening that is a little, or a lot, out of the ordinary.

It is noise that is noticed.  It is noise that is questioned.  It is noise that is wondered about.  Noise draws people closer.  Noise makes people stop.  Noise brings out something that is worth a look.

The noise that is absent in most places in Toposaland is the Sound of Praise to God.  Real, unadulterated, genuine, unhindered, sincere, and unashamed Praise to the King.  In that area alone is there constantly... silence.

Now, hints of this Noise are arising.  In certain areas on Sunday nights, there is the noise of a leader leading his people in songs that speak the Name.  On Mondays and Tuesdays, the team begins times of listening to God's Word with song.  And yet, after those times are over, there is still silence.

And I shudder at this silence.  At the thought that so many of my new friends among the Toposa do not care to make or want to make or even plan on ever making this Noise.  And there are so many more Toposa that I do not know and will never know who have not even heard that there is such a Noise to be made.  Other things get in the way: gardens, money, family, goats, distant family, marriages, alcohol, fear, cows, and bulls.  I think about me and my culture, and I see so many similarities.  Work, relationships, money, and possessions also distract me and those in my culture from making this Noise.

I have also noticed that with noise comes more noise.  If there's a jackal on the compound, quietly growling near the chicken coop, then the chickens will start rustling around, the roosters will crow, and Samson and Delilah will begin barking.  There will some sort of confrontation noise, whether it is between the dogs and the jackal or the jackal and the poor chickens, quickly followed by the noise of someone on the compound getting up and going outside with a flashlight.

Noise is contagious.  One noise makes other noises.  And people can't help themselves.  They hear a noise and always want to know more about it.

The motto of those working in the Sub-Saharan affinity is: "Shatter the Silence."  I understand the goal now more than ever.  Thanks to the, albeit annoying and sleeping-reducing, plethora of noises of the night.

Please pray with me.  For our team.  That we'd make a Racket as we follow God.  That through us and our being here, God would make a Rumble for His Glory.  And that the Praises sung by those who turn and follow Him would shatter the silence.

After all, one Day there will be a multitude worshipping the King.  And among this multitude there will be people from every language, tribe, nation, and tongue.  Even Toposa.

And on that Day, there will no longer be any silence.  There will only be one thing.

Noise.