The Good Times and the Sad Times

Nothing I have ever done before compares to the time I have spent in Jordan. I got to hear so many stories of families before having to leave them. It’s hard to hear about their struggles and become attached to them, only to have to leave them immediately.

I struggled with this from day one when I met with my first family. Thankfully, I got to revisit them later in the week to interview them.

I haven’t even had the privilege of writing about every family I met with. On the first and second day, we met with three families each. All were Iraqi Christians, all had come from the same village, and all had made the same journey to Kurdistan before deciding to leave for Jordan. Each was, however, unique because of their family situation. All had kids, but their ages differed widely. Some had aging parents with health issues, and some had children with health issues. Some of the bread winners in the family had health issues themselves. All of them had fled from the violence of ISIS, and I wanted to do everything for every one of them.

I wanted to get them the needed VISAS, pick them all up, and put them on a flight to a safe country where they could start new lives, but that’s just not how it works. These things take time and patience and I need to have the strength to accept that I don’t know God’s plan for every family. All of them are here for a reason, and all of them (the Iraqi Christians at least) are models of faith in God.

Nothing I have ever dealt with compares with their experiences, yet their faith remains strong. My job in their houses was to bring them food, toys, and hope, and I did, but now that I look back on it, they gave me faith. We as American Christians can look to them for examples of faith. The Iraqi church service was another moving experience. The way they reached out in pray for our team moved me. It made me remember how alive God is here for these people.

In contrast, our next few visit days were with Muslim Syrian refugees. They also had different aged kids and various health issues. Each family is so painfully unique that it makes me want to reach out even more. All of them had fled from the war in Syria. They tell us that people were being beaten in the streets and that fear reigned supreme. Some of them had entered into camps, but had to escape because the conditions were too bad for them and their children.

Incidentally, the only Muslims I met with were women. Out of the four families I visited, only two had living husbands, and the other two husbands were not in the home at the moment. One woman in particular had six kids. She was raising them by herself with little outside support. Of course I want to just swoop in and fix everything. I want to give them a nicer house, and I want the mother to be able to work to earn money to feed her kids. In a perfect world, I also want them to get their VISAS. My dearest wish would be for them to follow Jesus.

It’s hard to see these people in the dark even after traveling so far. They don’t love Allah. They fear him. They pray to him because they fear he will be angry with them if they don’t. This may be the hardest thing of all for me because I want to see them again, even if it’s not until we get to Heaven. But then I remember that this change doesn’t happen overnight. Over time, they may see the love that Christians have for their God and other people and realize that they want to know more about Him.

My visit is only one step in the process of the humanitarian process so I should be content with it. My greatest hope is that my words will get them thinking. Muslims don’t think. They don’t question anything about their faith because if the Quran says it, then must be true. I hope they see the kindness of the Christians reaching out to them and want to know more.

The refugee visits were the reason I came. Any special experience like seeing the Dead Sea and Petra were added bonuses. While they were amazing and unforgettable experiences, the trip would have been complete without them. The trip could not have gone on without the Stephen team.

These men and women are chiefly Iraqi refugees, but some are Syrian. They gave their time to drive us around and translate for our home visits. Rather than just driving and translating for us, they ate meals with us, and became our friends. They were beside us to guide us through anything from ordering food at restaurants to speaking to refugee families.

Now since they are refugees too, I want them to be able to move on to other countries where they and their families can live, work, and go to school. But, like the refugees we visited, I think that God put them here for a purpose. Once again, I hope that we were a blessing to them with our presence, and I hope they know how much we appreciate them, but nothing could compare with the good example they set for us.

It was truly a blessing in every way to become acquainted with them.

That’s why it’s so hard to leave. I don’t want to think about leaving any of these people for good. Then I remember that God works in mysterious ways. He definitely blessed me with letting them into my life, and I have faith that He will bless them in ways they could never imagine.

Even if I never see them again on earth, we will all live our lives for God. Even though the trip was a very good time, it has to end. I’m grateful for the experience, and I’ll never forget it. Now that the sad times have come, it’s all the more important to cling to God and to the good times.

Getting There

Up until today I thought Petra was just that one big famous rock carving. I didn’t really know that Petra was a whole trail of carved rock paths and ledges. So today when I arrived at Petra, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I was looking forward to seeing the famous stone carving called the treasury, but was surprised to find out that we would have to walk a mile just to reach that, and then walk another mile to get to our lunch destination. I also learned that the treasury was only a fraction of Petra which also includes cave tombs, a long walk down a deep gorge, and a sandy trail that leads to the library and monastery. At the end of the trail, there’s a little place called The Basin restaurant where my group was eating, and lots of little tourist trap vendors and donkey rides.

I started out enthusiastically by climbing all over the stone tombs on either side of the road. It was amazing to feel the wind around me as I ran over the rocks to the next best view. I wanted to stay there forever, but out time was limited, so we moved on.

The next part of the walk was the rock gorge. Seeing the sheer rock walls on wither side can leave one feeling very small. Around every corner I expected to see the treasury, but it seemed to never come. I didn’t care though because instead I got to see something unexpectedly amazing. My expectations had been low compared to the beauty of what I was seeing

The actual treasury is also breathtaking. Words can’t describe the wonder of the untamed stone that had somehow been shaped into something so beautiful. Despite the beauty that was before us, there were still distractions. People milled around, offering to sell jewelry, camel rides, donkey rides, horse carriage rides, postcards, or any other little tourist item. It somehow seemed to detract from the majesty of the sight before me.

By now, it was getting to be time for lunch. We were supposed to be at The Basin restaurant by 1:30 and it was already nearing 1:00. So, refreshed by the treasury, I set off again, hoping to get there early to get a good seat. The actual trek was different than I expected. People on every side badgered us with donkey rides. The ground beneath our feet turned from packed dirt to sinking sand, and The Basin was still nowhere in sight. We  consulted a map to see if we might have missed some path, but we were still on the right track, and the moment of concern gave way to enthusiasm when we saw a sign for the restaurant in the distance.

Now I could go on to tell you how we rode camels and made friends with the ice cream vendors and store proprietors, but instead I want to give you a moral to the story.

 

I’d like to focus on the sandy area just past the treasury. This leg of the journey was probably the hardest for me. I thought we had already reached the destination, but we had to keep walking through the soft sand and consult our directions to see that we were still on the right path. This can be compared to a drought or hard time in our Christian life. We thought everything was perfect, but then more difficulties come. Even the directions seem to fail and we can start to question God. This is when we need to look to God most.

A lot of Christian Iraqi refugees are in this stage. They had good lives back in Iraq with families that they loved. Many we have talked to just got done building their dream home, only for ISIS to burn it down and force them out. They came off their highest of highs and were then crushed to the lowest of lows. What I have found encouraging, is that many of them don’t seem to be losing hope. They’re staying the course and trusting God to lead them to whatever he has planned. It serves as a good reminder for me that God is still in control and will lead us safely through his plan for us.

That’s what is special about these people. They’re still getting there. Nothing is set in stone for them, but they have hope of a better future, and I believe that many of them will get there through God’s grace.

Across the Desert

Why am I using a poorly framed and ugly picture for my featured image? Because it’s a view of Israel, the same view of Israel that Moses had from Mt. Nebo before his death. Climbing Mt. Nebo and looking out across the desert was an amazing. I love the feeling of walking in the footsteps of Biblical figures. Even though I’m actually not going to Israel, I have seen it. I have also had the opportunity to see other Biblical locations.

Another special place we visited today was called The House of Ruth. This is of course not the actual house of Ruth in the Bible, but it is located in Moab where she was originally from. This center helps teach Muslims and Christians alike necessary skills. They do not preach the Gospel so as not to alienate the Muslim participants. Instead, they choose to lead by example. They are truly beacons of light for God even when they are just teaching women to sew or speak English.

We also had the opportunity to visit an Iraqi church. I was astounded at the generosity of the congregation. They gave even when all they had to give were a few coins foraged from the corners of their pockets. I was also moved by their genuine nature. A girl on our team struggles with chronic migraine headaches. After she shared her testimony, the whole congregation expressed a want to pray for her healing. As the pastor’s voice rose and fell powerfully in prayer, I could feel God working. He is here among these people. We come here to pray for them and for their needs, but they are equally willing to step up and call out to God for us. This was an amazing thing which I am grateful to have experienced.