a repetition of sound produced by the reflection of sound waves from a wall, mountain, or other obstructing surface.
any repetition or close imitation, as of the ideas or opinions of another.
I generally think of echoes as the first definition above. I’m in a place, a bird sings, someone yells, waves crash, and there is a reverberation of that sound a short time later. Sometimes you have to strain to hear it. But yesterday, I experienced the latter. I had coffee with a woman I met recently. That doesn’t sound terribly momentous, does it? Lots of people chat over coffee and the world remains the same when you walk outdoors again. But as we spoke a bit of our stories, something shifted, because I heard echoes of my story in her. As we spoke of church and good times and hard ones, there was an acknowledgement that something was shared.
Something shared. No, it wasn’t that we grew up in Southern California, or that we had both lived in the Bay Area for some time. It was something deeper inside. It was the faith that shapes our lives and actions. We both chose to engage in ways God called us–and it wasn’t always easy. There were push-backs, questions, and times of isolation, feeling like you are swimming upstream in a place that shouldn’t require it. So you make hard choices, not without prayers, tears, and reservations.
In those times of feeling alone, this echo feels precious. It reminds me that while the details are different, I have company. There is a great band of believers around me. And I repeat this to myself: faithfulness is not about achieving a certain outcome, but doing what you are called to do.
I am thankful for echoes that reverberate deeply in my soul, and thankful to a God whose timing for them is perfect.