come by here

Yesterday, for some reason, I had a song in my head.  I realized where it came from: Saturday summer nights at RAM’s (Resort Area Ministries).  A bunch of youth from various churches around town, would all converge at a popular campground.  We’d head out in all directions to stop at each and every camp sight and invite them to our campfire service.  It was in a large clearing area behind the showers.  We sang songs to the tune of guitar music, did some funny/stupid/hilarious/silly skits, a short devotion-like was spoken, etc.  

Anyway, the song was ‘Kumbayah’, Gullah for ‘Come By Here’.  It originated with the Gullah, an African-American people group living on the Sea Islands and adjacent coastal regions of South Carolina and Georgia. They lived there alone for hundreds of years.  The Gullah speak a dialect that most native speakers of English find unintelligible on first hearing but that turns out to be mostly heavily accented English. (And...it became a standard campfire song...)

From singing ‘Kumbaya’ years ago, it now invokes a warmness and contemplation in my heart.  How often do I ask God to ‘come by here’?   I want Him to ‘come by here’ when I’m singing praises and laughing with joy and crying with pain and earnestly praying and while I’m asleep and every time in between.                          

‘Kumbaya’

Kumbaya my Lord, kumbaya  x3
Oh Lord, kumbaya
Someone's singing Lord, kumbaya  x 3
Oh Lord, kumbayah
Someone's laughing, Lord, kumbaya  x3
Oh Lord, kumbaya
Someone's crying, Lord, kumbaya  x3
Oh Lord, kumbaya
Someone's praying, Lord, kumbaya  x3
Oh Lord, kumbaya
Someone's sleeping, Lord, kumbaya  x3
Oh Lord, kumbaya