Have you ever stood at the edge of a cliff and shouted just to hear the echo reverb, bouncing back to your ears?
My childhood best friend, knower of my teenage heart, and I share a memory of echoes. There was an expansive hillside field with a lake nestled at the bottom beside my home. Perfect for shouting at the top of our lungs.
So one evening filled with the burnt oranges of dusk, we did.
Running through the field, gathering flowers for our hair, we turned circles shouting that the hills were alive. Then we began to yell in a cadence the names of our secret loves. We belted the words “I LOVE SO AND SO” again and again and again.
(What? I can’t tell you their names! Nope. Not going to do it…)
We giggled and ran and skipped. And when we got home? My mom let us know we also told our entire town, or at least those in the two mile radius around the lake, the secrets of our hearts.
She had heard the echoes.
I’ve been pondering echoes lately. Letting the idea bounce back and forth through my thoughts. My classroom theme this year even uses the quote, “Be a voice, not an echo.”
What if we’re all just echoes? Reverbs bouncing off the walls of space and time.
The real question is who are we echoing?
If my echo is an imitation of standards the world has set, or a copycat version of have-it-all-together women, or a second-rate version of an original…
Then I have no voice.
Yet we were created to be distinct. Our Creator formed us, shaped us as individuals.
We were never meant to echo one another.
When I attempt to imitate other women, conform to their rules of beauty and ideals, I only become a distorted version of the original. A version that never truly reflects who I am.
But there is one voice we are created to echo, and because I’m made in His image, I’m my best self when imitating Him—the Creator-God.
Imagine a world where believers actually echoed their Jesus. Imagine the symphony of voices coming together.
I want to be a voice in this world. A voice that echoes the Jesus who loves without condition. A voice that reverberates the light of Christ through the darkness and shuts out hatred and bitterness.
I want to be part of the collective voice of millions resounding love together as we open our arms to the broken and the hurting and the lost. As we see the world, its suffering, its refugees and refuse to turn our backs but instead echo loudly you are welcome here.
When we echo Jesus, His love reverberates, and we become our best selves.
In truth? My echo of Christ is often distorted and shabby—a distant reverb.
So I dig in closer to my Jesus and keep singing His love from the hillside.