wanna be one of them

i have few words tonight. my heart feels at once full and empty and hopeful and confused and expectant.

i listened to this song of sara's on the way home tonight.*

on repeat. over and over.

i had goosebumps and was crying by the time i reached home.

i just so ache to be one of them.

to be one that has a story written. to be the one that lives a story.

i am in the middle of my story. and i want to live it well.

i want to live it so that others are inspired to live their stories well.

i want to be counted among the saints that gave up everything, sacrificed everything, and ran to Jesus with all reckless abandon. 

there is just something in the building of the melody, the stirring of the words, and the way they connect with my heart.

setting captives free.

let the blind see! let the bounds be broken.

Christ has come and we are free.

Glory glory, hallelujah. I feel it in my bones.

He is coming, friends. He is coming.

.....................................................
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 sister 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
.............................
i added the italics to sara's lyrics.

*if that is the wrong song, or poor quality or something funky appears, i wasn't able to get the video to load, i just saw the opening shot and the title...so my african ability to preview is stunted just now.