Every play, a brick to rebuild Colombia
Gilberto Daza recorded a new version of "¿Quién Dijo Miedo?" with vallenato voices, and all proceeds will go to rebuilding Colombia.
Every play of "¿Quién Dijo Miedo?" has a destination: the brick. Gilberto Daza recorded a new version with vallenato voices, and all proceeds will go to rebuilding Colombia after the August earthquake, Altar7 reported.
A version with other voices
This time Daza shares the microphone. Vallenato arrives with its voices, its accordion, and its way of telling life without frills: it's sung at the corner store and at family parties. It's a genre that almost never appears in the same spaces as Christian music.
That the song comes back through that door seems like good news to me. Not because vallenato needs sponsors, but because it brings together two audiences that usually look at each other from afar. The title was already an uncomfortable question: who said fear? After an earthquake, that question is answered with actions.
«When the craft is put at the service of a concrete need, music becomes scaffolding.»
The craft as an offering
No one is giving away a brick from their own house. They're donating what they know how to do: the accordionist who practiced for years so his instrument would sound like that, the producer who mixed at night and mixed again the next day.
That's work understood as stewardship. When the craft is put at the service of a concrete need, music becomes scaffolding. And that also applies to what you do, even if it doesn't go up on a stage: a classroom or a kitchen can support someone.
Every play adds up, but it doesn't save
If all the proceeds from the version go to rebuilding, listening to it stops being a passive gesture. There the numbers have their good side: a stream can turn into construction material, into something you can touch.
After an earthquake, there are rubble and months of slow work. A song doesn't raise a wall, but it helps pay for what's needed to raise it. That's already real work.
But hope doesn't fit in a counter. Streams help and don't raise a neighborhood on their own; no artist is the savior of a country. The psalm says it without frills: "Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain" (Psalm 127:1, ESV).
There are no magic formulas here either. Someone composes, someone donates, someone listens, and the result is seen in walls months later. That's the kind of hope that lasts: the kind that works while it waits.
For those of us who listen to music from our phones, a play is the cheapest thing we do all day. That seconds turn into someone else's roof is a simple way to love your neighbor without speeches.
When you listen to it, share it with someone who is building something, whether a house or a family. And pray for Colombia, because rebuilding doesn't end when the song stops. "Let us rise and build" (Nehemiah 2:18, ESV) is still a good slogan for a tired people. How many times will you hit play?
