It was hot. The 330 ml can was already refreshing, its cool surface soothing my sweaty hand.
I wedged my fingertips under the dusty tab and peeled it back. The familiar "ksshhh-POP!" made my mouth water in anticipation. Ahh, the sweet sound of Coke, I thought, it's the same everywhere.
Which made me wonder, sipping a Coke on a hot, dusty afternoon in Kananga, what else has sounded the same everywhere I've gone. In our broken world, if one listens long enough one can discover the beauty we all have in common.
Like the sound of laughter. Or the joy of praise. The cacophony and stench of poverty, overcome by the fragrant offering of worship.
Friendly smiles. The scent of hard work. Curious children, and the sweet "aha!" of discovery.
"Whitey" sounds the same everywhere, whether it's lekgoa, gringo, huero, mzungu, mulungu, matoke (which means "squashed banana"!) or something else, but the embrace of the body of Christ is unmistakable.
Above all, there is the undeniable presence of God.
This is my Father's world!
Oh, let me ne'er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong
God is the ruler yet!