My little girl called frantically, “Mommy, mommy come quickly!  I am scared.”  I rushed to her bedroom and found her huddled under her covers.  My own heart was thumping in my chest.  Her cry was hollow and frightening.  “Make the drums stop beating, please mommy!”


Living in rural South Africa back in the eighties, meant that every night we went to bed, we could hear the witch doctor’s drums beating.  If you have heard that sound you know that it is an eerie one.  The echo would roll down the hill, into the valley where we were living and penetrate through the walls, making its unwelcome entry right into our home.  I determined I would go and look for those drums.


The following morning, I got into an old vehicle and followed the road into the rural area just a few miles from where we lived.  As my vehicle hiccuped over the bumps in the road, my eyes were roaming and my ears were attuned to every sound emanating from the area.


I never did find those drums that day.  What I found was more heart breaking than I ever anticipated.  I saw forlorn, wasted boys and girls wandering aimlessly down dirt roads.  Many of these little ones were caring for babies.  Some of them were only four or five years old and yet they were looking after a six-month-old sibling. 


The air was infected with hopelessness.  The streets were littered with human and animal feces and a putrid smell hung over the neighborhood like a noxious cloud.  The stench was horrid.   I remember looking at those precious boys and girls and feeling a deep ache in my heart.  I understood a little about how God must have felt for each one of these little ones.


I never did discover where the drumbeats were coming from that day, but I heard the drum beat of heaven and it led me to the heart of God.  On that sunny day, I discovered a need that would lead me to start a work amongst the needy boys and girls of that area. 


As we approach Thanksgiving and sit and enjoy a festive meal with our families, won’t you pause to thank God for all His blessings in your lives?  And when you are done, please pray for the boys and girls all over the world who will not be eating a meal on that day.  Some of them don’t have food, but many of them do not have  a mom, dad or a caregiver either. 


Perhaps you are hearing a drumbeat somewhere in your neighborhood - some lonely person, some hungry soul longing for company and love!  Maybe you could reach out to them and touch their life and out of your abundance  share with them.  What a wonderful way to spend Thanksgiving - being thankful and giving to those less fortunate than us.  I couldn’t think of anything more meaningful.  Proverbs 22:9 says,  The generous will themselves be blessed, for they share their food with the poor.” 


So my friend, this is the season to share, to give and to be thankful.


I am and always will be,

Recklessly abandoned, ruthlessly committed and in relentless pursuit of Jesus,