when the saints

i went to the art music justice tour in october. sara groves sang this song called "when the saints" that night and it's a GREAT song. i just remembered i loved it. the last minute or so of the song is her mentioning people that have "gone before" that inspire us, and there's a couple lines about the missionaries who were killed in ecuador in the 50's.

i seriously can't put a finger on why this story means so much to me. i can't tell you how many times i've read it, and thought about it. it's not because they're martyrs. it has something to do with their complete love for the indians. it shaped their entire life. when they'd fly in their little airplane over the huts, and drop little trinkets to develop a trust between them...they were so enthusiastic about it. i remember one journal entry that stuck out to me was when the line got caught or something, so the indian had to hold onto it for a minute, and jim wrote something about how he couldn't believe that they were both holding on to different ends of the rope...connected, but not really, but longing for the day when he could share Christ with them...he was just so excited at the small progress they'd made in their efforts...

see what i mean? i can't explain it.

in elisabeth elliot's books, she is ALWAYS quoting and mentioning someone named "amy carmichael." like, all the time. it can be kind of redundant. but i understand, because that's how i feel about jim elliot and the other missionaries that were killed with him. the story never gets old. i'm enjoying reading it again.

i want to have that kind of passion. it's taking shape, but i'm not really sure what to do with it.

anyway, blah blah, so when i heard sara sing that song at her concert, and saw them flash images of jim elliot, i was really "moved" or whatever you want to call it. because it's something very "special" to me or something. i hate sounding so cheesy.

here's something not cheesy:

the other night i dreamed about jim elliot. i dreamed that he wasn't really killed. i dreamed they took him captive, and we all just misunderstood and thought he was dead, but really he wasn't. and they just discovered he was alive after all these years, and there was much rejoicing. especially when he and elisabeth reconnected, and he found out that her third husband was dead (not true in real life), so he was like "score. we can be together again."

weird dream.

here's the song that some nutso added pictures to. there are some RANDOM pictures on here. but if you start watching at 2:15, you'll hear the part i love, and see the pictures that i can always immediately recognize and identify, because of how often i look at them...



and the song lyrics:

Lord I have a heavy burden of all I've seen and know
It's more than I can handle
But your word is burning like a fire shut up in my bones
and I cannot let it go

And when I'm weary and overwrought
with so many battles left unfought

I think of Paul and Silas in the prison yard
I hear their song of freedom rising to the stars
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them

Lord it's all that I can't carry and cannot leave behind
it often overwhelms me
but when I think of all who've gone before and lived the faithful life
their courage compells me
And when I'm weary and overwrought
with so many battles left unfought

I think of Paul and Silas in the prison yard
I hear their song of freedom rising to the stars

I see the shepherd Moses in the Pharohs court
I hear his call for freedom for the people of the Lord

And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them

I see the long quiet walk along the Underground Railroad
I see the slave awakening to the value of her soul

I see the young missionary and the angry spear
I see his family returning with no trace of fear

I see the long hard shadows of Calcutta nights
I see the sisters standing by the dying man's side

I see the young girl huddled on the brothel floor
I see the man with a passion come and kicking down the door

I see the man of sorrows and his long troubled road
I see the world on his shoulders and my easy load

And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them