Better Than A Hallelujah....

God loves a lullaby
In a mother's tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes

God loves the drunkard's cry
The soldier's plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

The woman holding on for life
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes

The tears of shame for what's been done
The silence when the words won't come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

Better than a church bell ringing
Better than a choir singing out, singing out

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

This song has resounded in my heart since the moment we set foot in India. Just a day into our time in the village I woke up hearing the temples blare their call of worship....and in that moment... as the music flooded the air, my heart unleashed all the tears pent up. Tears for the injustice that surrounds us, tears for the children that don't yet understand the hard life that awaits them, tears because this is not the way God meant for His people to live. In that very moment, with tears streaming down my face, my heart aching beyond description, I knew without a doubt, that God was hearing the cries of my heart. Not just hearing them, but somehow hearing a melody. And then I knew in a more real way than ever, that God hears the honest cries of breaking hearts, not just my heart, but Monjue's, Punatha's, Chanduru's, Ambica's, Miss Lily's heart. The hearts of people that love Him with a passion that is undeniable, a dependence that is truly indescribable. God listens, He cares, and loves each one of these people more than I can comprehend. Not only does God listen, but He is radically moving in the village. Change is happening in a very real way. A place whose name literally means darkness, now is a place the village people say is a place of light, a place of HOPE. A father who had left his family recently moved back into the village because he said their is hope here now, a light that was never before... Another family moved into the village seeking the hope, joy, and light they heard about... One of the villagers now has a foster child they are taking care of now as their own...the Light, the Hope is spreading. God is alive, real, and hearing the raw cries of His broken people....and sometimes those cries....are better than a Hallelujah.

Jessica Stemm