May 7 & 8

Saturday and Sunday May 7 & 8, 2011 Amman

When I woke up Saturday morning I felt as though a cloud had been lifted. While I still very much had symptoms, I felt much better. On top of that the LCD screen on my camera was fully functional again. In passing I thought perhaps I had been oppressed by a demon, but irregardless, I was beaming at breakfast, knowing I had no more teaching to do but could sole concentrate on relationships which are so enjoyable.

So for the next day and half my focus was just that and how good it was. God granted me many opportunities to learn more about the conferees. There was a man from Bethlehem who lived within eyesight of the Church of the Nativity. How cool I thought until I read about the second infitada. I had forgotten the church became a refuge for armed militants and hostages for fifty some days back in 2003 and that the entire town was locked down, with people able only to go out for necessities for a couple of hours each day. There was a mom from Jerusalem who struggled with a teenage son with ADD and the disapproval of culture and even his church because of her son. I learned to the prevalence of drugs in Jerusalem; I met evangelical believers who are even mocked by other Christians. I met believers who only play Christian music in their hair salon which caters to the general public and who routinely witness people weeping as they listen to the music. A number of time, both here and Amman, I was struck by the sharing in the men’s group, how the language was different but what was being expressed I had heard a number of time before in Northwest Arkansas.

Sunday morning Luanne shared what a woman of Islamic upbringing had expressed about us. She commented on how lack of trust was such a huge issue in her culture, but she said that the unity of our team had caught her attention. She had never seen such a thing. The woman said we appeared as like a fishing net; if we see a tear in the net we immediately set in and repair the tear, handling each other weakness. She said we interact as through we are family, and, of course, in a very real sense we are.

The attendance at the conference had been cut if half due to Sunday being the beginning of the work week in Jordan. However those who were still in attendance were committed and invested. Wahid and his two associates left late on Sunday morning amid much thanks and emotion. Larry shared how he has recycled his pain as Rodney closed with the last lesson and then we entered a time of worship and prayer. Larry, Luanne and I had the privilege of praying for many different people as Rodney, Angela and Rand provided music and Don made recordings and photos. Afterward we too said our good-byes and I gave away my CR Bible to a conferee I had promised it to earlier. Apparently duty taxes make getting Christian materials very expensive in the Middle East. The joy in her face was unlike anything I have experienced since my boys were little and got just the right gift.

Later in the afternoon as I met Adham to return his guitar I ran into a Jersulam believer who had a chronic pancreatic infection which had flaired up the night before. We prayed for her safe and quick return to home in Jerusalem, especially passing through the border checkpoints. We received work the next day that she indeed made it home and was resting safe and well.

That night we went to the home of Gus and Fairous, a couple who had helped Rand put together the conference. Gus seems very keen on bring CR to Amman. A very dedicated couple who are both active in ministry in Amman they had some wonderful stories to share, particularly about their older son Daniel, how they had both been praying for a son by the name of Daniel with red hair, even though they did not know each other. Fairous was late in her child-bearing years when they married and many encouraged them not to start a family but they trusted the Lord and sure enough their first born was a red haired boy. They also have a cute daughter. In their home we met an Awana missionary that was staying with them while he was working in the region. It was good to see Sparky in Arabic. We also got to see Laila’s TV show at it was aired on a satellite network.

Fairous prepared a fabulous meal. After visiting for a bit longer we were all fading from the pace and health issues of the past two weeks and so, after praying for that dear family, we returned to our hotel for a good nights sleep because the next day was our play day, when we were to go to Petra.

May 6, 2011

I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me— John 10:14

May 6, 2011 Amman

I will remember this night for a while. I was scheduled to teach twice the next day, initially giving my testimony and the lesson on Hope in the morning and then later on in the afternoon, teaching the Housekeeping Choice, where we confess our faults to myself, to God, and to someone we trust. I had taught both in Egypt so prepared enough but I still felt uncomfortable asking men and women to be transparent in a culture where there could be severe repercussions should their trust be violated. About one in the morning I was awaken by my coughing. It almost felt as though the infection in my sore throat had rolled down my airway as a ball and was now camped in my bronchial tubes and upper lungs. I spent the rest of the night restless, praying about the lessons and getting up to google a couple of Bible passages dealing with God’s way not being our way (Isaiah 55) and God using the foolish to shame the wise I Corinthians 1:27, verses I wanted to use in my opening. The reference John 10:14 kept coming into my mind. Off the top of my head I had no idea what it was so I googled it as well: I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me. I took it to mean that God would not lead me to say anything that would harm anyone, that those who had ears to hear would do so, and that just as I needed to trust God in my life to lead me into good pastures, I need to trust him to do the same for these dear believers. It was only later, as I was reading my journal and starting to blog that I saw that passage I wrote back in January before the first trip was canceled, the one from Isaiah: He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; Isaiah 40:11. God obviously was staying on task even if I was wobbling about a bit.

Don and I had been running just after dawn through downtown Amman the past couple of days and he talked me into running that morning as well. I was trying to decide just how sick I was, so I figured I would go slow, turn around if I felt bad, and walk if need be. Well I did have to turn around and walk a fair part of the distance back to the hotel. My symptoms seemed to be getting worse. By the time we got to the conference site I sinuses were draining and I would cough so hard at times I feared I might black out. I took an Aleve and just prayed God would give me the strength to do so. Although I have no idea what I said that day and I had to lay down briefly between teaching (and miss Larry’s testimony), I was told I was coherent; even my nose held off draining while I taught. Wahid just smiled at me later saying God sometimes has to just physically take us out of the way so we can be of use.

Returning to the hotel I immediately crashed and slept for two hours. Don woke me about 7:30 p.m. and talked me into going down to get something to eat. Don was most kind to me; I sat off from everyone in the dining room, not wanting to spread my germs any more than I already had and Don joined me to keep me company, saying he was undoubtedly already been exposed. I appreciated and was comforted by his presence immensely; he is a good friend. Angela gave me some Nyquil and soon after dinner I fell into a long seven hour sleep.

May 5, 2011

May 5, 2011 Amman

The morning started off with a strong devotional time. The night before I was reading in Lightforce about Palestinian Christians, and how large numbers of Palestinians fled after the Irgun massacred 243 Arabs in the village of Deir Yassin, men, women and children, then took a few men as survivors to other villages to relate what the Irgun had done before then killing them as well. http://www.deiryassin.org/mas.html And of course, the West Bank has been under Israeli control since the 1967 war and has experienced two infitadas in which rubber bullets which can easily cause spinal injury and death, especially when used on young boys. This is part of the background of some of the Christians we had met the night before and would attend the conference. I shared what I had read and my own thoughts of how insignificant my testimony must seem in the light of such hardship, especially since many of my own difficulties were of my own making, not forced on me in my home by an occupying force.

Wahid in his unique comforting way reminded us of Romans, where Paul speaks of how when see abounds the more, so does the grace of God, and Angela added that it is not about our individual content, but about the process, that each of our stories is different but the common denominator is God’s healing power. It is comforting to know that regardless of our personal circumstances, God’s grace always proves sufficient to the believer who turns to Him when in suffering and tough circumstance, whether of his own making or not.

Wahid also shared with Larry architectural plans for a leadership training conference center he dreams of building just outside of Alexandria. You could see the excitement in Larry’s eyes. He is eager to come up with a development plan and I could see just how God has prepared him for just such a task

The conference started that afternoon. Rand was a bit disappointed in the turnout; he says there are so many conferences in Amman, even though this one is different, that the small numbers of Christians in Jordan are simply worn out by them. Still there is a strong contingent from the West Bank, Jerusalem, even as far away as Tel Aviv. In a way the smaller numbers have the advantage of more personal time with the people in our small groups. I renewed some friendships from Syria, particularly Adham, who could not attend anything but the opening session due to a youth retreat he was facilitating that weekend. He was quite kind to lend me his classical guitar for the weekend. Having the guitar was to bea simple pleasure. keeping my callouses from fading any further from non-use, but any thoughts I had harbored of playing for anyone was soon to be tossed aside as my sore throat was fixing to take a sharp turn south.

Madaba, Mt Nebo & Dead Sea

Crying holy unto my Lord, Crying holy unto my Lord
Oh, if I could I surely would stand on the rock where Moses stood. Bill Monroe

Madaba/Mt Nebo/Dead Sea Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Everyone seemed to be fairing a bit better in the morning as we ate breakfast. My throat was still sore but I did not think a whole lot about it. At breakfast we still avoided uncooked foods which seemed to be working well for all of us. Munthir our driver showed up on time and after exchanging some money into Jordanian Dollars (an American dollar only gets you .70 JD) we were off to nearby Madaba on a beautiful morning. Larry would comment several times how the weather, at least in May, in Amman reminded him of San Francisco, cool and dry.

Madaba is the site of a Greek Orthodox Church where they have on display many mosaics dating back to the Byzantine Empire in the 3^rd and 4^th centuries. Back then many home’s had floors that were elaborate mosaics of Biblical accounts and personalities, but after the fall of the empire, the floors were plastered over and it was not until the 1800’s that an earthquake revealed what was under those floors and French Christians came in mass to the city to restore the mosaics, many of which are now on display in the church. A good illustration of how God sometimes has to use disasters in our own lives to uncover treasures we have covered with our own dull plaster, but I digress. I was amazed at the patience and love displayed in the intricacies of the mosaics, and a whole industry has grown up around that town and mosaics. We visited two artisan shops where craftsman today work on contemporary mosaics; one is the Jordan Foundation, started by the Queen of Jordan, with the proceeds used to give handicapped Jordanians meaningful employment. We all did a fair amount of browsing and buying; I myself picked up gifts for my wife and daughter-in-law. As I waited in one shop I struck up a conversation with the young nineteen year old that had helped me with my purchase of Dead Sea salt and mud. He was preparing to started college in the fall; his father, uncle, and cousin were all engineers but he wants to study languages so he could work in the tourist industry and make better money. Apparently a glut of engineers has resulted in depressed wages for his cousin, a mechanical engineer, who only makes 200 JD a month with living expenses are every bit as high if not higher than in the states

Some tensions began to show again among us as we had to wait on each other as we shopped, but when a bit later when we were atop Mount Nebo, and strain was again showing, Larry led us all in a prayer where we laid our feelings before the Lord and asked for His love to bind us together. Immediately that prayer was answered; all our attitudes were markedly better and from then on there was no more aggravation. I thank the Lord for Larry’s wisdom and maturity.

Mount Nebo had its tourist aspects and the Greek monastery was closed for renovation, yet it was powerful to stand on the summit and look out toward the Jordan River Valley and realize that Moses had seen a very similar vista. The evaporation from the nearby Dead Sea made visibility sketchy in areas but you could make out the hills surrounding Jerusalem some 50 km away. Leaving the summit we descended down in the valley past numerous Bedouin camps and once in the valley we quickly passed through a security checkpoint and were soon at a public beach, Amman Beach, on the Dead Sea.

First on our agenda was lunch. Jordanians seems to have a sweet tooth for the dessert table was incredibly varied and everyone especially enjoyed the bread pudding we found there. After eating we prepared to experience the 33% salinity of the Dead Sea. I had secret hopes that salt would help my sore throat; kind of like gargling with salt water. The sensation of being so buoyant is truly unworldly; if you lay on your stomach, the buoyancy of your legs felt like they were going to flip you over. Larry, Angela and I spent the extra 3 JD to slather our bodies with Dead Sea mud to rejuvenate ourselves. Rinsing off without getting salt in my eyes was a bit of challenge but made easier with my goggles. However, the salt on my face burned where I had shaved that morning; laughingly later some Jordanian friends said oops, we should have told you not to shave. After rinsing off in the shower some of us swam in a swimming pool adjacent to the Sea and we just relaxed and enjoyed the last of the day. Several times we were serenaded by the sound of artillery fire, but when asked who was firing and why, Munthir just shrugged and said, no one ever knows who or why. Apparently the sound is just a part of the sound track of life in the Jordan River valley.

Leaving the Dead Sea, which is 1237 feet below sea level, we took the main direct highway to Amman, about an hour away but also about 2500 ft above sea level. At times our ears would pop from the pressure change. Arriving back at the Hotel Commodore we were greeted by Wahid and some of his associates. We cleaned up, napped, caught up on Facebook and email; about sunset the sound of the evening prayers or Isha came through our windows. I remembered to pray for the Coptic believers, and for believers in neighboring Syria where an ongoing crackdown prevented any from coming to Amman. At dinner we met several of the conferees from Palestine which was made the more interesting since that was the part of Brother’s Andrew book I was currently reading. Having enjoyed a much needed day of rest we were anxious to open the conference in the morning.

Cairo to Amman

Tuesday May 3, 2011 Cairo to Amman

Our travel day found us hustling to the airport in various stages of health. Don was about on his last day to Cipro he was taking for stomach distress; Luanne was a bit shaky digestively, I had not been sleeping well for the past three nights and everyone was tired.

Getting through security at the airport was yet one more time to be hit up for tips. Getting from the curb to the security scanners we had three to four porters for our seven checked bags; for the thirty feet from the scanners to the airline counter there were at least 3 or 4 more. It was borderline ridiculous. Anyone who could get a finger on our bags was looking for a tip.

Besides are physical ailments the strain of travel and being with each other 24 hours a day was starting to cause small flare up of our character defects. When I discovered that the LED screen on the back of my camera was not working properly I was beginning to feel demon possessed; I was fearful the camera was not functioning properly. On the flight into Amman my throat became raspy; I later learned Rodney was suffering a sore throat as well. Larry seemed to be the only one not dealing with some physical ailment.

The flight was quite short, even as the plane made a slight detour around Israeli airspace. As we came into Amman we flew over the Dead Sea which gives off a cloud of salt vapor haze that confounded the auto focus on my camera which locks onto contrast.

But landing at Amman was literally a breath of fresh air. The day before in Cairo had been both hot and humid, but Amman sits about 1000m above sea level and the air was noticeable cooler and drier. No one hounded us touch our bags at the airport; Mundir our driver picked us up and we took a nice modern highway where people actually used the lane lines and drove relatively sanely. Although we only saw the nicer areas of Amman, the city seemed a bit tidier than Cairo. By mid-afternoon we had settled into our rooms on the second floor of the Hotel Commodore, a nice enough place although it had been around a while. I had visions of Lawrence of Arabia hanging out on the front veranda.

Wanting water and some throat lozenges I wandered a couple of storefronts up the street and met the Palestian proprietor of a small convenience store who spoke enough English to take care of my needs. Later in the afternoon Rand, who organized the Amman conference, dropped by to make sure we were comfortable and to take us for a short spin to learn nearby landmarks, like the Safeway, and take us for some pre-dinner ice cream.

We enjoyed a relaxing and delicious meal at the hotel and retired early for we had made arrangements for Mundir to pick us early for a day of relaxation and sight-seeing as we went to see the Dead Sea.

Cairo, Monday May 2

Cairo Monday, May 2, 2011

My day got off to a very early start. About 3:30 in the morning, the Muslim call to prayer, the adhan began, but in Erick and Alicia’s expatriate neighborhoods with an abnormal for the Middle East concentration of dogs, the adhan was quickly drowned out by the canine accompaniment. While I was familiar with the adhan, it was right around sunrise; this was the middle of the night, so I do not know how they figure the time. Interestingly, this first call is followed by a second call known as iqama (set up) which summons Muslims to line up for the beginning of the prayers. The main purpose behind the multiple loud pronouncements of adhan in every mosque is to make available to everyone an easily intelligible summary of Islamic belief. The dogs also joined in with the igama. For the vast majority of people all this is pretty much background noise. We heard the afternoon call while on a busy street in Amman and saw absolutely no change in the hustle and bustle. Most people do not even hear it anymore; it is sort of like living next to a railroad line and getting used to the sound of the train at specific times. Between the muezzin and the dogs I was wide awake, and so I spend a good chunk of my morning praying; praying for all the believers I had met, praying for the Coptic Church and other believers in Egypt; praying for our team and those we would meet in Amman. I finally fell asleep again, slept through my own cell phone alarm and was awakened by Erick knocking on my door.

We planned to meet everyone at the Giza pyramids at ten so my oversleeping through us a bit behind schedule. We walked to a nearby restaurant where once again the economic price of revolution was evident as at 8:30 in the morning we were the only customers in the eatery with country-western motif. Who would of thought Johnny Cash would fit so well in Cairo? After exchanging some US dollar for Egyptian pounds to sightsee and shop for the day, Erick had his driver tooke three of us to Giza. We beat the team there and since security would not let us wait in the bus zone, when they arrived I was unable to get my overnight bag on the bus before it left and so had to leave it with Erick’s driver to retrieve later in the day.

After passing through the ticket booths we were immediately set upon by Bedouin vendors. I allowed myself to get isolated from our group and quite literally was having “gifts” stuffed in my pockets and on my head and in trying to beg off I foolishly pulled out my money clip and had the top note, which I later discovered to be a 200# note (about $35 US) , ripped out of my hand. Having on sunglasses and not my regular glasses I did not know what was taken, I demanded the return of my money and the vendor cleverly produced a 10 EP note. Valuable lesson learned as I later in private shifted small bills for tipping to produce and leave larger bills safely tucked away. I soon learned not to make any eye contact, for in tourist’s area any interaction is taken as opportunity to be tipped. I understand that they live off tips, that many Americans spend more on lattes that many Egyptians make in a day (though not necessarily these vendors), that tourism is off significantly, but I did not like what the whole interaction did to my normally friendly demeanor. As we moved through the pyramids, vendors followed our group like a flock of vultures.

Adam had a group of camel drivers he knew from prior trips and made arrangement for us to ride back from the pyramids to the entrance near the Sphinx. The head driver spoke something like nine languages; I am sure in good times they make a very nice living. We all enjoyed our camel ride. The experience of being on such a tall creature when he stood up or down was pretty extreme; you would have to lean back sharply to avoid falling off the front of the camel. Otherwise it was similar to riding a horse…… except you were way further from the ground.

Near the entrance to the pyramids was a KFC where we ate lunch. A tip got us access to the fourth floor roof with some nice views of the pyramids. After lunch our bus driver, Mohammed, took us through Garbage City which is a world unto its own and which was the subject of a recent PBS documentary: http://www.pbs.org/independentlens/garbage-dreams/film.html. Garbage City is home to 60,000 Zaballeen — Arabic for "garbage people." The Zaballeen have survived for centuries by recycling Cairo's waste. Members of Egypt's minority Coptic Christian community, these entrepreneurial garbage workers recycle nearly all the trash they collect, maintaining what could be the world’s most efficient waste disposal system. But adjacent to Garbage City is the largest church in North Africa, The Church of the Cave. http://cavechurch.com/home/index.asp We were warmly received at the church and learned a bit of some of the traditions of the Coptic Church, particularly a miracle circa AD 979 when God moved the mountain where the church is now located to gain favor for the Coptics from the ruling caliph, and the appearance of a finished Madonna and child sculpture on the cave ceiling while excavating for the church. Later on in private on the bus we had interesting discussion about the validity of the miracles and the wisdom of putting faith in such things as the Shroud of Turin. My character defects of skepticism and being opinionated were clearly on display but I still respect their beliefs. I regret we were not there on a Saturday night when 5000 believers would be within the walls of the cave worshipping.

From the Church of the Cave we headed back into Cairo for an hour excursion at the shopping market. Again the shop owners were extremely aggressive, at least the first fifty meters or so going into the market. At times they would literally grab hold of your person to try and pull you into their shops. Accompanied by Adam and several of Wahid’s MELTI staff we fared well and I negotiated for T-shirts. Erick and Alicia called it a day so I went with them to retrieve my bag from their driver’s card. After affectionate good-byes, I put on sunglasses and my game face and barreled through the gauntlet of aggressive vendors at the market’s entrance. Catching up with our team we visited some quieter shops deep in the market where Adam knew the owners. At one I bought a large number of small Coptic crosses made of camel bone to give to my support team.

After shopping it was back to the Fowler House for a quick shower and then off to Wahid and Laila’s house for a dinner which was attended by both their mom’s and other family, Adam and some others from MELTI, their leadership ministry, and some missionary friends of Adam. At dinner I discovered Adam and I had a mutual connection; the pastor of his home church in Tulsa is Alex Himaya who I knew quite well from when he was youth pastor at First Baptist in Springdale. To underscore how small the world can be, one of his missionary friends has a degree in Middle Eastern studies from the University of Arkansas. Apparently, thanks to Bill Clinton’s connections with the Saudi royal family, that program is well endowed.

We enjoyed a wonderful meal thanks to Laila. We also enjoyed visiting with everyone. One of the aspects of this trip I enjoyed was getting to know Wahid much better. In Syria I spent so much time with the young people I had limited personal interaction with Wahid, but with every new opportunity on this trip I have grown in my love and appreciation for him. While Wahid is going to be with us for a while in Amman, much of his team and all his family was not so the evening concluded with many hugs and kisses and good-byes. We returned to the Fowler House tired but well-fed and loved, and knowing we would have another early morning to be at the airport by 8 a.m.

Sunday May 1, 2011

Sunday May 1, 2011 Fowler House, Cairo

The closing session at Beit Elwadi was still well attended although many families left early on their way home. Rodney and Larry taught on the Recycling Pain- the Sharing Choice, where I yield myself to God to be used to bring this Good News to others, both by my example and by my words. Larry did a wonderful job using a coke can as an illustration of how we need to be crushed in order to recycled and useful once again, and of course, his personal testimony speaks directly to that. To one level or another all of us on the team can relate to that message, especially as we share our testimonies in a foreign land. I myself wonder at the awareness God has given me of my own insecurities and penchant to let my mind wander places it need not go and He is still willing and able to use me. Following the lesson there was a time of worship and surrender when conferees would symbolically lay certain issues at the foot of the cross. I have fallen in love with their worship music, most of which is in minor keys with distinctive Middle Easter rhythm patterns. Then our entire team was called to the front where we were each given a metal plate with the Lord’s Prayer in Arabic. The conferees enthusiastically thanked us and we were overwhelmed with their appreciation, love, and requests for photos and email addresses. One young lady came up to me and thanked me for coming, saying “Because of all of you we now have hope.” How humbling; how thankful I am that God can take testimonies of ordinary people and make them into a vehicle for His hope.

After the extended good-byes, Wahid and his son drove us to our hotel for the night, the Fowler House, which was a guest house for the evangelical church in Cairo. It is near downtown and we drove so close to Tahrir Square we could see the burnt out NDP building and the elevated road where clashes took place last January. We were treated to lunch at a fast chicken outlet and then cleaned up before meeting a number of Wahid’s team at the big mall in Cairo called City Lights for an evening of shopping and dining.

I have an old high school/college friend, Erick, who was stationed as a geophysicist in Cairo last June and so I packed my overnight bag since we had talked about me spending the night with them. I had tried sending him a text earlier since I had international text plan, but I did not have the country code right and all efforts were getting no where. As a sign of our times, I ended up sending my wife in Arkansas a text, who in turn, was chatting with Erick’s wife Alicia via Facebook and so we arranged to meet at Fuddruckers at the mall. After dinner I left the team with Erick and Alicia for a cab ride to their home in the suburb of Mida. Erick had us bale out of the first cab because the driver refused to listen to him, insisting on running up the mileage going to long way, and we flagged down a second cab whose driver was honest. But it was a precursor to some of the shenanigans I would experience the next day at the pyramids.

Erick’s birthday was in the morning, and they had taken an overnight excursion into the countryside southwest of Cairo to an area called the White Desert. At their flat we stayed up for some time, drinking tea, visiting and looking at the surreal photos from the White Desert as the Starbucks coffee I had drank earlier in the evening. Today was one of the first warm days of the year, well into the 80’s F, and since it would cool off at night and I was used to sleeping with open windows and they had yet to turn on their AC, I thought I would be have no trouble sleeping. Little did I know my morning was to have a very early start.