Caedmon's Call - Two Weeks In Africa Lyrics
Lyrics
From Johannesburg to Cape Town, the plane had barely touched down
She was taking photos for the friends back home
This was where she had always felt her heart belonged
She was finally here, the sky was bright and clear
Two weeks
And we all can feel the calling
Two weeks
To make the world a little smaller
So a girl got on a plane for two weeks in Africa
Johannesburg to Houston she came home on a mountain
But school was starting, things kept moving on
Before you knew it seven years had gone
She found a picture of her standing smiling,
Arms around the starving kids she swore to not forget
She swore to not forget
Two weeks
And we all can feel the calling
Two weeks
To make the world a little smaller
So a girl got on a plane for two weeks in Africa
And if we follow our dear sun to where the shores are not familiar…
Faces turn to numbers, numbers fall like manna from the sky
Why, oh why, oh Father, why?
One village in Malawi now has water running pure and clean
One church alive in Kenya's full of truth and love and medicine
We put the walls up but Jesus keeps 'em standin'
He doesn't need us, but He lets us put our hands in
So we can see His love is bigger than you and me
Two weeks
And we all can feel the calling
Two weeks
To make the world a little smaller
So a girl got on a plane for two weeks in Africa
Video
I Will Sing / Hope To Carry On - Caedmon's Call
Meaning & Inspiration
Caedmon's Call, a name synonymous with thoughtful, Scripture-infused folk music, released "Two Weeks In Africa" on August 28, 2007, as part of their album *Overdressed*. This song stands as a powerful narrative, distilling the essence of mission work, the human heart's response to global needs, and the sovereign hand of God into a compelling three-and-a-half-minute anthem. It begins by introducing a young woman whose journey from Johannesburg to Cape Town is more than just travel; it's a pilgrimage to a place where her "heart belonged." This immediate connection speaks to a divine yearning, a pre-ordained purpose akin to Jeremiah 1:5, where God declares His knowing and consecrating before birth. Her photographic efforts for friends back home underscore the desire to bridge worlds, to "make the world a little smaller," as the chorus declares, reflecting a universal calling to engage with distant realities and to extend the reach of compassion, an echo of the Great Commission in Matthew 28:19-20.
The song then thoughtfully explores the tension between an impactful, if brief, experience and the return to everyday life. The girl comes home, life's routines resume, and "seven years had gone" before a photo reminds her of the "starving kids she swore to not forget." This poignant detail captures a common human struggle: how to sustain a spiritual passion and commitment when confronted with the daily demands and comforts of home. It subtly brings to mind the parable of the sower in Matthew 13, where the cares of the world can choke the seeds of good intentions. Her initial promise, "she swore to not forget," serves as a gentle reminder of the enduring nature of vows made in moments of profound connection, urging us to consider what we, too, have pledged to remember and uphold in our walk of faith.
The lyrical journey deepens with a poignant interlude, inviting listeners to follow "our dear sun to where the shores are not familiar." This call to step beyond comfort zones leads to a profound moment of lament: "Faces turn to numbers, numbers fall like manna from the sky / Why, oh why, oh Father, why?" This raw, honest cry articulates the overwhelming reality of global suffering, a feeling that can easily dehumanize vast tragedy into mere statistics. It is a genuine lament that finds parallels in the Psalms, such as Psalm 13:1, where the psalmist questions God's apparent absence in the face of distress. Such open questioning within a faith-based song provides solace, affirming that wrestling with the weight of the world's pain is a valid and even necessary part of a robust spiritual life, fostering a deeper reliance on God’s unchanging character amidst perplexing circumstances.
The song culminates in a powerful theological statement that anchors its message in divine grace and sovereignty. Despite the overwhelming statistics and human inadequacy, tangible impacts are highlighted: "One village in Malawi now has water running pure and clean / One church alive in Kenya's full of truth and love and medicine." These specific examples shift the focus from the individual's struggle to God's ongoing, active work in the world. The profound lines, "We put the walls up but Jesus keeps 'em standin' / He doesn't need us, but He lets us put our hands in / So we can see His love is bigger than you and me," encapsulate the essence of Christian service. It acknowledges our limitations and self-sufficiency, but also celebrates God's ultimate power and His gracious invitation to participate in His work, not because He requires us, but because He desires to reveal His immense love *through* us, allowing us to witness its scope. This resonates deeply with 1 Corinthians 3:6-7, where Paul explains that "neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth," underscoring that our efforts are merely instruments in the hands of a God capable of "doing far more abundantly than all that we ask or think" (Ephesians 3:20). "Two Weeks In Africa" is ultimately a powerful encouragement, reminding us that even brief acts of obedience, motivated by a heart for God and His people, contribute to a divine tapestry of love that transcends human effort and understanding.