I realized that I had written this a few weeks ago, but hadn't posted it yet. So, though it is a few weeks old, I still wanted to share it. Enjoy.
I was going to say that I have to go and rescue the box of kleenex from Little t who was making an attempt to pull out every.single.last once. but he succeeded...oh well. Could be worse.
Our God Is Greater
We have been on the quest to see a camel ever since we arrived in M-ville 3 ½ months ago. We went to the animal bazaar when my mom was here in hopes to see one, but there were none and we were told it was too cold. We saw one through the car window one Friday afternoon, but the car was full of hungry kids, so we decided to continue in the direction of lunch (home) instead of stop. Tariq and I saw the butt of one as it walked past our house one day, but I wasn’t dressed appropriately to go out on the street. Even if I had been, it would have been slightly awkward to chase after a shepherd and his herd of sheep, goats, cows, donkeys and camel just to…look at the camel.
So, with three strikes against us, we headed to the animal bazaar on Thursday. The temperatures had been in the 70’s for two weeks and angel khAla had been assuring me that there would be camels there. That morning, kAkA also told us that there would be camels there. A joked with him that we wanted to buy one and kAkA laughed and said, “you can only buy one if you buy a dozen…so don’t come home with one unless you come home with a dozen!” I am not sure if he was just joking or somewhere in his thinking about crazy foreigners he assumed that we just might be loony enough to buy one and keep it in the yard, ‘just for fun’. Maybe he decided that he didn’t want to have any part if that craziness so he decided to try to turn us off to the idea. I don’t know.
Anyway, we arrived at the animal bazaar/dry riverbed full of trash and rocks and rotting oranges and men and sheep/goats/donkeys/horses/cows/camels.
Immediately the staring began…because that is just what happens here. When your wife doesn’t wear her chadAri (burka) and your son is impossibly cute with piercing blue eyes, the stares just happen. And so we rolled with it like usual. Trying not to bump into anyone, or step in poop, or get ran over by the horses and donkeys that were being taken for test drives i.e. being ran up and down the riverbed at breakneck speed (though breakneck speed is a relative term for donkeys…).
Little t freaked out when he saw all the animals. Poor little guy couldn’t make donkey and sheep and cow noises fast enough. We let him get down and walk up to some little baby goats and sheep in a herd. He was dancing around he was so excited, squealing, trying to touch them, and clapping his hands. We took some pictures, we drew a crowd, we kept him away from the big ones with horns.
After a few minutes, we migrated over toward the main attraction. We had spotted him when we had first arrived and couldn’t wait any longer. A went to talk to the owner of the huge camel that stood up on a small hill in the river. When I say huge, I mean the thing was about the size of our house. It was 10 years old…and for a cool thousand (dollars) it could have been ours. Tempting…
A few pictures later, we were about to walk away when an old man with a horse said hello to A. He and A exchanged greetings and the man offered to let A ride his horse. A chuckled and declined (a few too many unpleasant horse experiences have turned him off). The man offered again and A politely declined again. Finally the man asked A to let Little t sit on the horse and then motioned for me to take a picture.
The men talked for a few more minutes. The older man asking what we were doing here, if we lived in town, what work we did, why we work for the government (we assured him we don’t), the usual questions that we answered honestly but very vaguely. Then after asking if we were Mu.slims, casually the phrase “why don’t you say the statement of belief” slipped into the conversation. A told the man that he didn’t know what he was talking about. The man said, “it’s easy, just repeat after me ‘la e la e la la ba la ba da’ (not a direct translation or how you actually say it, just what is sounds like) and then you will be a good M.uslim.”
Once again he repeated the phrase and said to A, “just say it”. By now we were surrounded by a large crowd of men. There are times when having rational conversations about your faith with people are good and appropriate. There are other times were it will be hopeless and it is safer to just leave. This time was one of the latter. A asked for permission (culturally appropriate), said goodbye and we left. We saw a few more goats and sheep before making our way back down the riverbed and towards home.
All in all, it was a lovely morning, we saw a camel, Little t loved it and we got some exercise and fresh air. But the pressure to utter those words put a slight damper on an otherwise lovely experience.
Mind you, we weren’t scared in the midst of the crowd, but it was a little tense. The man was obviously testing to see if we were M.uslims or not (if we would have been we would have said the statement quickly and easily). Often we can be mistaken for locals, especially when we don’t have Little t with us, A is thought to be local and I am thought to be from Iran. There were a lot of eyes and ears turned in our direction…and I found myself sad that we didn’t have a great way to refute what they were saying. While it may have seemed like the perfect opportunity to hop up on our soapbox and preach, it definitely wasn’t.
It is just discouraging because many times our hands feel tied in this place. Oh, how we want to share about the Maker of the Heavens and the Earth, the One who flung stars into space and yet despite that power is gentle enough to breathe life into each tiny baby. We so long to speak of the Hope and Truth that has beautifully ruined our lives forever, to share of freedom and wholeness that is far beyond our comprehension.
As I was making lunch after we returned home, I heard this song by Chris Tomlin and I wept as I realized that this was the cry of my heart as we stood in the midst of those men. To be able to tell them that truly our God is greater.
And not to say it in a competitive third grader on the playground “na-na-na-na-na our God is better than your god!” way. But with conviction and promise:
Our God opens the eyes of the blind.
Out of the ashes He will rise.
There is no one like Him.
Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
Our God is higher than any other
Our God is the healer
He is awesome in power
He is our great God.
This is what we long to tell people in this place – in ways that are sensitive and respectful. But we also want to tell them in ways that will blow them out of the water. Because that is who God is, isn’t it? One who will completely and totally transform and change life to make it something beautiful that rises from the ashes.
So, please pr.ay for us in this place and in these days. Pr.ay that we will have opportunities to share with people about who our great God is and what He has done in our lives. And pr.ay for wisdom and clarity of speech when those pressures to convert do come – that we would be able to have sensible and meaningful conversations – to be able to share about our great God instead of just tucking tail and running.
I just love your posts T! And you know exactly how I'm picturing you saying, "Just for fun" in my head right now. I so wish I could have seen little t ecstatic about the animals - so cute!
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