We spent a lot of time gazing bump-ily through the van widows. As usually occurs, songs kept playing themselves over and over in my head. Sometimes I would put on my iPod as I watched the reality show flying past my eyes. It was as if I was giving India its own sound track. Ironically, someone already did this. I couldn't wait to pull out this CD when I got home and ached inside that I hadn't thought to upload it to my iPod before we left. It was amazing listening to the familiar words as an insider now. I had been there. Just like the songwriters. And I had seen the sights, smelled the smells, heard the sounds, lived the words and pleaded in my heart with the Lord for these people. And I was blessed so much more by these songs. I've gotten to relive India through song since I've gotten home. Thanks Caedmon's Call. I will Share the Well...
Mother IndiaFather God, you have shed your tears for Mother India
They have fallen to water ancient seeds
That will grow into hands that touch the untouchable
How blessed are the poor, the sick, the weak
Father, forgive me, for I have not believed
Like Mother India, I have groaned and grieved
Father, forgive me, I forgot Your grace
Your Spirit falls on India and captured me in Your embrace
The Serpent spoke and the world believed its venom
Now we're ten to a room or compared to magazines
Father, forgive me, for I have not believed
Like Mother India, I have groaned and grieved
Father, forgive me, I forgot Your grace
Your Spirit falls on India and captured me in Your embrace
There's a land where our shackles turn to diamonds
Where we trade in our rags for a royal crown
In that place, our oppressors hold no power
And the doors of the King are thrown wide
Father, forgive me, for I have not believed
Like Mother India, I have groaned and grieved
Father, forgive me, I forgot Your grace
Your Spirit falls on India and captured me in Your embrace
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