In the middle of the desert in Niger, Africa the hot sand blows back and forth.  You can feel it in your teeth, under your fingernails, in your eyelashes. The heat is intense, like standing in front of the exhaust of an airplane. The clouds seem to have something against the desert, because they are gone as quickly as they come. My western skin feels a bit like someone has taken fine grit sandpaper to it, while the locals seem born with a tougher disposition. I shake a woman’s hand and it is bone dry, calloused to the touch. She spends her days with an infant strapped to her back, pounding millet, separating the grain. She shares the road with camels, mopeds, and herds of cows. She lives on the other side of the world, and we have next to nothing in common.

Nothing except for a Savior.

In the middle of the desert where I stick out like a sore thumb with my bright white skin and awkward dance moves, I expected to feel like I was so far from home. Yet there I was, in the middle of what I can only describe as a worship conga line, and I felt like I was home. I felt like I was surrounded by my brothers and sisters that couldn’t understand a word I said, but could somehow hear the cries of my heart.

Fast forward to the first whispers of Selah Memphis - whispers of words like open-handed, community, intentionality, healing, pausing, belonging, responding. A nudge from the Holy Spirit urged me to take a leap into this new thing, and what I found was a global truth: brothers and sisters in Christ are united by a bond stronger than blood. It is a bond that spans countries, races, ethnicities, social statuses, and languages. We all have the same God who speaks to us through the same book, by the same Spirit. I came to Selah Memphis and found family I never knew I had.

I have a brother and sister who fought past infidelity and are living, breathing marriage miracles. I have sisters who are up through the night rocking their sweet babies while the rest of the world sleeps. I have a brother whose nights of rocking babies to sleep are nothing but faint memories. I have a sister who is drawing near to the first moment she will get to see her baby girl’s face. I have many sisters who share with me the hope of seeing the babies we lost in eternal glory. I have brothers who are black, brothers who are white, brothers somewhere in between.

We are urged in Hebrews 10 to come together and encourage one another. This is life and breath to us as believers. The desire to belong to a family is a need as basic as food and water. I’ve seen it in Memphis, Tennessee and I’ve seen it in Niger, Africa. Sometimes meeting together and encouraging one another means corporate worship, sometimes it means gathering around a fire in a village, and believe it or not sometimes it means singing along to a YouTube lyric video in someone’s living room on Sunday morning.

Wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, find your brothers and sisters and do it with them. Bless others with your presence, and be blessed by theirs. Encourage and be encouraged. There is a seat at our table, and we’re saving it for you.

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful; and let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more, as you see the day drawing near. Hebrews 10:23-25

Kristi Rice - Selah Memphis Launch Team Member