Highlights Photography

May 7 & 8

2011-06-09T09:19:00.000-07:00

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

2011-06-03T11:29:00.000-07:00

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

2011-06-03T09:49:00.000-07:00

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

2011-05-29T19:44:00.000-07:00

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

2011-05-26T19:21:00.001-07:00

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

2011-05-25T17:26:00.001-07:00

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

2011-05-23T13:49:00.000-07:00

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.

Friday & Saturday, April 29 & 30

2011-05-22T15:15:00.000-07:00

The Lord Almighty will bless them, saying, “Blessed be Egypt my people, Assyria my handiwork, and Israel my inheritance. Isaiah 19:25

Beit Elwadi Saturday April 30, 2011

Sitting in the conference center I am a bit blown away by how packed the past 48 hours have been. My memories are a blur of seven teaching sessions, testimony, worship and small groups and numerous personal interactions. At best a few scenes vividly stand out.

Larry and Angela, who had been traveling 24 hours behind us due to Angela's school schedule, arrived early the second day and immediately went into action, no small feat given the rigors of travel and the difficulties they faced (On the trip over Larry had lost his laptop containing his lessons and testimony). Nonetheless they shared and taught powerfully and effectively. I myself taught twice the second day, first on the Hope Choice, where we earnestly believe that God exists, that I matter to Him, and that he has the power to help me recover. That Friday evening I taught on the Housecleaning Choice, where I openly examine and confess my faults to myself, to God, and to someone I trust. Like most people when I first heard of the concept of sharing my darkest secrets with another person, my initial reaction was no way. In the Middle East with their priorities of not shaming their families, severe repercussions if they do dishonor their families and the lack of trust between even close friends, the idea of building a human relationship where you trust being totally open is a tougher sell than in our own isolated, Horatio Alger culture. Unlike Syria were the idea when presented generated an extended Q&A and discussion time, some group dynamic times were built into early teaching sessions and so the initial presentation was accepted without much discussion. Time will tell if the concept grows on some, if not all; I know it took a while for God to bring me around and I did not have near the cultural restraints these dear people face.

These people truly are amazing. A mixture of Coptic, Catholic and evangelical believers, these are undoubtedly some of the most God-loving believers in Egypt. This was a long holiday weekend in Egypt and they had given up their free time to come to a conference on healing. Their love for the Lord is evident in their approach to worship. Various groups led at different times, most were fairly young, 35 and younger, which reflected the conferees, and the culture in Egypt as well. Their singing seemed to spring so naturally from them it was as though it were just part of their lifestyle: you could almost picture them breaking out in song sitting in a sidewalk café or walking as a group down a street. They would intersperse the heartfelt music with prayers from the conferees. Even at night while Don and I slept exhausted, large groups staying up into the wee hours of the morning praying together.

For me it is difficult to grasp what some of these people have been through, even before these past few months. I remember chatting at dinner with a young mother of two, who was working a job and going to theology school. But under the Mubarak regime, she and her children had been picked up for questioning by the police because she had appeared on TV talking about her faith in Christ. You see many young Coptic believers with the Coptic cross tattooed on their inner wrist as a witness to their faith. You heard stories of people banning together to protect their neighborhoods; of gun shots randomly being fired in the middle of the night, of the lack of business since the revolution.

Yet in all this they are still people with the same heartaches and issues we face. Drug addiction is no stranger, from pot to percocet to heroin based drugs. Their satellite feeds contain something like 62 pornographic channels. There is divorce; there are problems with family members; they struggle with anger and resentments. Then on top of that you add in a revolution and political uncertainty.

Another amazing group was a core group of about fifteen leaders that God has been preparing to bring Celebrate Recovery to Egypt. They had already begun working through the step study participant guides and were hungry to learn more and more about CR and how it compared to Life’s Healing Choices, and about the dynamics of leading a step study. I met two that had gone through drug rehab; one expressed the shame he sees in peoples eyes when he talks of his past yet he is willing to embrace his weakness in order to see God work the same wonders in others lives as he has experienced himself. Since returning I have been praying for them almost daily.

We had our share of light-hearted and fun moments. If it were not for the kindness of a young man in my group I am not sure we would have ever gotten internet access, for while buying a card with ten hours access for $6. was easy enough, it took someone with a local MobilNil phone account to receive the authorization code. Probably to the amusement of many conferees, Don and I started taking advantage to the sports facility. When few people were there to observe us we would slip on swim trunks (I had jammers) and goggles and swim laps in the outdoor pool. As we adjusted to the time change a bit we would get up early enough to go for short runs around the perimeter of the complex.

Early Saturday morning at 2 a.m. we got up early, through on a few clothes and met everyone in the lobby to Skype into the CR worship at home on Friday night. Our hearts were warmed by the familiar sights and I felt such gratitude that these brothers and sisters who were supporting us so powerfully by prayer as well as financially. More than once Don and I would discuss the wonder that God could take such two old coots with such deeply rooted character defects and yet allow us to be a part of this process. God truly is amazing.

April 28, 2011 Cairo

2011-05-21T11:50:00.000-07:00

April 28, 2011 Cairo

The best thing to be said for the flight into Cairo was that it was mercifully brief, just about two and half hours. It was shortly before midnight before we finally took off from Istanbul and the seven hour lay-over in the airport had been a bit mind-numbing. A friend had given me a book to read, Lightforce, by Brother Andrew, which deals with the church in the Middle East over the past twenty years. I had made a good start on it, reading about Brother Andrews trips to bolster believers in Beirut as that country spiraled into sectarian violence, with Christian militias being just as indiscriminate in their violence as any of the others. By now we had been traveling almost 24 hours and fatigue was setting in. That made the cramped seats in the older Boeing even more uncomfortable.

We touched down in Cairo about 1:30 a.m., which of course is just thirty minutes before the military curfew goes into effect. We processed through customs relatively quickly; the only hitch came when we were buying our visas, which is fairly nominal at $15. We initially tried paying with $100 US bill but they would not accept the older currency; they only wanted the newer, more yellowish bills. Fortunately they did take smaller older bills and soon we met a driver from the airport hotel, the Novatel who had been asked to pick us up. After checking in we were perplexed by the lack of electricity in our rooms until the porter showed us the key slot into which you slipped your room key to activate the power, a common feature in Egypt and Jordan we were to discover and a nice energy saving feature which was new to me.

By 3 a.m. I had showered and was in bed but was surprised at the length of time if finally took me to fall asleep. Since I had only unpacked my overnight bag and had showered I was able to sleep to almost 8 a.m., but we had instructions to have our bags down in the lobby by 8:30 to be transported to the conference sight. So 8:30 a.m. we found ourselves meeting Magad, a familiar face from Syria who works for Wahid’s organization. An observation I began to make about Middle Eastern culture seemed to play out with Magad, a most energetic and diligent man. While the Middle East takes a rap on punctuality, it seems that early morning appointments are usually on schedule; it is just as the day progresses and life and relationships happen that, by evening, there is no telling when things will transpire.

Magad quickly disappeared with our bags. Wahid and Laila were to pick us up in an hour which gave us time for breakfast and a devotional. In eating we all were careful to avoid any fresh fruit or vegetables that may have been washed but not subsequently cooked. All of us had learned valuable lessons last August in Syria about embracing everything in the local diet. Wahid was timely as well and soon we were whisking through freeway traffic in Cairo, where traffic lanes are half-hearted suggestions and it is nothing to be able to reach out and shake hands with the driver next to you, even at 50 mph. We broke up our drive with a pit stop at an Egyptian version of a convenience store (which is quite like our own except they fix the coffee for you) for a much needed cup of coffee. The area where we were headed is called Beit Elwadi, which is roughly half way between Cairo and Alexandria. Long an area of Christian influence, prior to the Muslim conquests the number of monasteries in the area numbered in the hundreds. Even today four still remain. The conference center is of fairly recent construction, just about five years old, and really caters to Christian sports camps during the summer. The complex has a pool with lap lanes, a covered soccer field and a robes course and climbing wall. Adjacent to their property is a drug rehab center, reputedly the best on in the Middle East.

The highway to Beit Elwadi had several areas of construction and congestion. We saw several vehicles with Libyan car tags, a reminder of the problems in that neighboring country. Several times we saw cars abandoned where there had been accidents and vehicles rolled and totaled. In fact, where we left the highway to exit to Beit Elwadi, which is but a few km off the highway, there was no real exit so we just followed others who have cut across the sand median and across opposing freeway traffic to get to our road. Right there we saw the aftermath of an accident and later learned that some of Wahid’s people had witnessed a car go airborne right at that exit and roll three times. Miraculous the two men in the vehicle walked away but the car was toast.

Settling in we met some familiar people and met many new ones. Don and I roomed together and the first night we had an extra roommate, a musician/videographer from Tulsa who had been there a week shooting film for a organization he is involved with called Serving Copts. http://www.servingcopts.com/index.html He shared how they had mounted a small HD camera on a front of their vehicle and went driving through Cairo’s narrow streets. Sounded awesome; I still can’t wait to see that footage, because Egyptian traffic is something you have to experience to believe.

Unlike Syria where we had a six days to present the material to conferees, the time schedule at Beit Elwadi was tight, with eight sessions scheduled over three days. We were blown away by the attendance. They had closed registration at 240 and had a waiting list. Through Laila’s TV connections the entire conference was being recorded and after editing will be used on the Christian satellite channel in the Middle East. We were warmly greeted and jumped in with both feet that afternoon. I was so glad Rodney was teaching because I was unsure I could string together two coherent thoughts after all the travel and lack of sleep. Rodney taught on the first choice, the Reality Choice, where we admit we are not God and that areas of our lives are unmanageable. We broke into small groups and I facilitated an interesting mix of businessmen, young professionals and even the unemployed. Many understand quite a bit of English, several spoke quite fluently so translation was never an issue. I enjoyed when the men would share directly with each other, forgetting I was even there. There seemed to be an eagerness to open up to each other.

The day ended with dinner about 8:30 p.m. By then Don and I were done and after very little visiting we slipped away to our room and called it a day,

Day Two: Istanbul April 27

2011-05-20T10:28:00.000-07:00

See, the Sovereign Lord come with power and his arm rules for him.

See, his reward is with him, and his recompense accompanies him. Isaiah 40:10

April 27, 2011

Late in the afternoon we arrived at Istanbul airport. The disorientation and adjustments have already begun. The flight to Chicago O’Hare had been short and uneventful although we were treated to spectacular views of the downtown area as we flew in and the clouds opened up and poured late day sunlight across the cityscape. Moving through security and into the international terminal the environment began to already pick up a Middle Eastern flair, from the dress of many people, to the languages spoken to the baggage handler saying his evening prayers on his prayer rug in the corner of the corridor.

Our flight to Istanbul was long (over ten hours) but was manageable, no small part due to the ability to spread out because of low occupancy, at least in the back of the plane where we were seated. First I enjoyed probably the best airline meal I have ever had (not that I travel that much) of fish and fresh veggies and fruit, followed it up with a light comedy of “Get Smart” and then thanks to a couple of Advil PM caplets I managed six hours of very deep solid sleep. After waking up I did a bit of Bible study on Isaiah which brought about a conversation with the lady seated behind me. Turns out she works for Samaritan’s Purse as a comptroller and was headed to Khartoum, Sudan for a four week rotation. I was impressed with her courage to travel into such a troubled area. My Texas Longhorn hat also initiated a conversation with a man from Austin who works security/logistics for a construction firm in Iraq.

After purchasing a $6 cup of plain coffee I began to realize how expensive food is at the airport in Istanbul. Being my first time to Turkey, I was a bit surprised by how modern the people dressed and acted; but of course, Istanbul is half in Europe. Fortunately I had packed a fair amount of food and so avoid the $16 chicken nugget dinners although I did mooch quite a few French fries from my companions.

Our team is certainly an odd collection for the Lord to use. Half of us came to believe in Christ later in life, myself seventeen and half years ago when I was 43. Some of us have been in jail; more of us had done things for which we should have done jail time. Only two of us have worked in ministry as a living; one of those is our team leader and recovery pastor, Rodney, and that is a recent development in the past five years. As a group we are extremely ordinary in a lot of ways. While we all have our own individual gifts, there is little that jumps out as outstanding. Rodney has a strong baritone voice he has developed well, that is about the only remarkable attribute to our group. Otherwise we are a housewife/farm girl, a coffee barista who is in grad school, a commercial real estate agent, a small town photographer and a recently retired pharmacist.

There are two common themes among us. One is that in one way or another, God has helped us face areas of personal weakness and in facing them have experience His healing in strong and dramatic ways. The other is a level of obedience to the Lord.

A great example of that obedience is how we got to be here at all. About three years ago one of our team, Larry, had responded to a call to go to Cairo to introduce a group of business men to the curriculum of the Influencers with whom he worked. In that he met Wahid and Laila who have a long established ministry based in Cairo organizing Walk Through the Bible seminars, ministering to teens through a TV program and working with Saddleback Church in translating and distributing Purpose Driven materials. Larry shared his involvement with our ministry, Celebrate Recovery, which struck a chord in their hearts. In 2009 John Baker, founder of CR, wrote his book Life’s Healing Choices along with a church curriculum, which Wahid then translated and asked for a team to come to the Middle East to teach it. Due to the Larry connection, Rodney was asked to put together a team to go to Syria in August of 2010. Five of the six of us were on that team. The reception of that conference was so positive that Wahid had put together two more for us to do, one near Cairo and one in Amman Jordan.

Back in January before we were to go initially, I had struggled with what I, just a nobody from Arkansas, would have to offer to people who experience persecution and violence as a reality of their faith in Christ and where women have been disenfranchised and abused systematically for generations. In that struggle God was faithful to give me a verse from the book of Isaiah which a bible study I was involved in was currently studying,

You who bring good tidings to Zion, go up on the high mountain.

You who bring good tidings to Jerusalem, lift up your voice with a shout,’

Lift it up, do not be afraid, say to the towns of Judah,

“Here is your God!” Isaiah 40:9

All I had to offer the people I would meet is the story of how God has worked in my life: Here is your God. I prayed that God would give me the strength to be faithful to that purpose.

Just two verses later underscored my need to trust the Lord, that He is the good shepherd who will not harm his flock. Instead

He tends his flock like a shepherd:

He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart;

He gently leads those that have young. Isaiah 40:11

Leaving NW Arkansas

2011-05-19T07:25:00.000-07:00

Prologue

April 26, 2011

Late in the day four of our team, Don, Rodney Luanne and I, sat in an American eagle jet on the runway as we watched storms approaching from the west. Rain had been constant over the past week with roads to the airport closed due to flooding just the day before. I wondered what a long strange trip it had been getting to this point.

Originally we were scheduled to return to the Middle East at the end of January to hold Life’s Healing Choice Conferences in both Cairo and Amman Jordan. Some 140 people had already signed up for the Cairo conference. But the week going into our departure saw the Revolution erupt in Egypt, with the internet going down and culminating in our trip being cancelled 28 hours before we were to depart. The emotional let down was dramatic but we were all a bit surprised when a bit over a month after cancellation, the conferences were scheduled, beginning April 28.

While February was an ideal time for me to take a leave from work, April is my busiest month of the spring, with my last job scheduled only five days before departure. After some thought and prayer I committed to the trip and trusted the Lord to get me through April. Everything had to click to pull it off, and so it happened although I ended up working 29 out of the thirty days leading up to departure. What was toughest was that when I get stressed for time I seem to sacrifice my morning devotional times first, which is a bit nonsensical. The silver lining was that even though my personal time suffered, my focus was keen. There was no time for peripheral distractions so I stayed spiritually fairly well focused, leaving little time for sinful thinking much less acting out and I seemed to seek out opportunities to be with the family of God, whether it was church, Bible Study, community group or Celebrate Recovery and felt blessed by a strong team covering us with prayer.

Having been to Syria the preceding August my outlook was quite different. I recall only one morning waking up with a feeling familiar before the first trip, a feeling of panic as in: what I am doing. More common was wondering why I put myself through such things as the pressure of getting everything done before leaving was ever-present. God as always was faithful. The day we left I finished the last of my packing with about thirty minutes to spare before Don and Bonnie came to give me a ride to the airport.

So it seemed a bit ironic as we waited for takeoff that our flight might be delayed due to weather after all that transpired the preceding months, from revolutions to work schedules and other commitments. But even as lightning was visible in the near distance our jet lifted off and slowly climbed away from the storm and cloud cover to avoid turbulence. We were on our way to Egypt.

Middle East Trip: Epilogue

2010-09-17T07:12:00.000-07:00

Epilogue

I write this now some nineteen days after returning from Syria. Slowly but surely I have readjusted to life at home. Initially the first week or so was marked with extreme lethargy but I experienced no depression or emotional let down after the mission trip. Every once in a while a sight or smell will bring back strong memories. One morning as I ran the smell of diesel fumes mixed with the odor of sweat brought back strong images of walking the streets of Damascus in the heat. But by now life has returned to “normal” but it does cause me to reflect on how I might have changed because of this trip, or that it would be a shame to have gone through such an intense experience and be unaltered.

I can think of a couple of external behaviors that remain changed so far, and hopefully they are indicative of some internal modifications as well. One is an inability to watch TV. The time in Syria was a time of lessened distractions, of being more keenly tuned into the presence of God, and I am loath to give that up. In my life television tends to be the bow that Satan uses to deliver his flaming darts. When I left I was not a big fan of TV, but watched a lot of news and sports and the occasional movie or TV show, particularly the last hour or so before bed. In the almost three weeks since returning I have watched a little bit of two football games (one with friends where I probably annoyed everyone chatting constantly during the game), a bit of news in the morning and no shows in their entirely in the evening. Sheila loves to watch shows at night and I will sit for a little while and watch and talk but I so far I have not been drawn into the characters or the plot. For me this reduction has helped to keep my focus on how God in his love and mercy continues to bless all life on earth and have particular spiritual blessing for those He calls His children.

The other is a greater outward demonstration of the love I have for fellow believers. I am even more prone to hug and encourage or connect my touch and conversation and I seem to simply say “I love you” much more. God has continued to impress on me the importance of the witness we give when we just simply love one another. Sometimes that may include deeds that help the one you love; sometimes it just being willing to climb into their world for a little while and listen and simply sit with them in a particularly messy mud puddle.

As to what God does with our trip to the Middle East I am entrusting that to Him. After processing over four hundred images of my own, after spending maybe fifteen hours at least working through my journal, I feel ready to move on to what it is God has in store for me next. If that includes a return trip to the Middle East, fine; if that includes a career change, fine; if it means life stays relatively the same I am okay with that. The important thing for me is that I stay aware of God’s presence, that He has and continues to change me, and that whatever comes is okay as long as I am able to experience Him in that situation.

Middle East Trip: Day 10

2010-09-15T12:25:00.001-07:00

Day 10: Home

The flight back was surprisingly tolerable given its length, something like thirteen hours. The jetliner was rather new, with video screens built in the seat in front of us. We were all grouped together, just in front of the rear attendant/restroom area. Our flight from Dubai was filled with ex-military who had been serving in Afghanistan working for private contractors. Although I took a Lunesta a few hours into the flight after dinner and watching a couple of documentaries the sleeping pill did not have much of an effect on me. I would sleep for ninety minutes, wake us, watch a bit of Ghostbusters, go back to sleep, watch a bit more. After the third time I just stayed up and watched Green Zone, which I had never seen. The film is of course set in Syria’s neighboring country of Iraq. As they showed the streets of Bagdad (I now know to be Morroco) and home interiors (actually Spain) in the movie, I wondered where it was actually filmed, but it did bring to mind the tight maze-like atmosphere of Damascus. As it worked out the credits for Green Zone were rolling as the wheels touched down in Atlanta where we had to process through customs before taking off for XNA later that morning.

We experience a couple of small hiccups getting through customs but nothing serious. I did get told to keep my hands down as I stretched my back and shoulder while standing in line at a security check. Kind of a Barney Fife moment. Once through all the security and once again in the US everyone connected via wi fi and cell phones. Technology is quite marvelous. For the first time in ten days I sent a text to Sheila saying that I was okay and we were on schedule to arrive about noon at XNA.

We spent our time getting snacks, and chatting, and expressing appreciation to the many GI’s in the airport. . On the flight from Atlanta I finished reading Blue Like Jazz and a lot of the team napped. Coming into XNA I could see ponds of brownish water in the landscape that had not seen rain for six weeks. Even so it seemed a bit strange to see standing water on the surface of the ground.

Upon landing a wonderful contingent of friends and family greeted us; since the flight was half full unloading the baggage did not take long. We had gotten in early and Sheila was running late because she needed to get gas so I had a short wait outside by the curb. It was enjoyable sitting there, feeling the breeze and listening to the birds. I was back home in Arkansas.

Middle East Trip: Day 9

2010-09-14T04:55:00.000-07:00

Day 9: Leaving Syria

Our last morning was a full one as we completed packing, grabbed a few last photos off the balcony, ate breakfast (I had settled into creating a Middle East egg burrito using boiled eggs, pita bread and other ingredients) and had bags out front ready to go by nine. Not only were Mohammed and his brother Hussein there on time with the taxis but V and the two brothers, H and H, continued to bless us, showing up from the other monastery in order to escort us to the airport. H S gave Larry a traditional Arabic headpiece and, after many hugs and kisses, as we drove off in the mini-vans, people in one, luggage in the other, he shouted out loudly standing in the middle of the street “I love you”.

Our trip to the airport took place in the morning rush of Damascus. Once again we were so tight in traffic I could easily have reached out our open window (none of the taxis we used were air-conditioned) and touched the driver next to me. Occasionally one would look up at me and register surprise to see a van of Americans in the middle of Damascus; I loved to smile and wave hello. I turned to Marsha and commented on how I would miss being a celebrity. She quickly got me grounded it, reminding me I was more of a novelty than a celebrity. My fifteen minutes of fame didn’t even last fifteen seconds.

Arriving at the airport V handled our baggage check in and almost without any effort on our part we were at the first security check where we once again said our good-byes. After passing through we laughed that we half-expected V to turn up yet again, maybe wearing a security uniform to further escort us to our plane. I did lose the tongs to my hooka as I passed through screening of my bag.

After a wait we were bused out of an older Jordanian airliner for a cramped uncomfortable two hour flight to Dubai. Sitting next to a Syrian exporter we engaged in a friendly conversation, with him offering to help us in Dubai if we needed it. With only a six hour lay-over I suspected we would be okay although I was so grateful for the offer.

Arriving in Dubai Rodney and I stayed at the airport while the rest of the group took a brief bus tour of the town. After the last couple of days of riding in buses and taxis the last thing I wanted to do was sit yet again in another vehicle. I spent some time just walking around the airport terminal, stretching my legs, and browsed the duty free shop which, as far as electronics and such, was much more expensive than back home. Since the others had left the airport they had to go through customs which presented a wrinkle or two in us getting back together, but it worked out fine in the end. After a hamburger from Braum’s at the airport we went through tight security checks, myself being frisked twice, and then boarded a wide-bodied jetliner. By midnight we were airborne and began the 13 hour flight back to the United States.

Middle East Trip: Day 8 Part 2

2010-09-12T12:55:00.000-07:00

Day 8 Part 2

Mohammed did a wonderful job getting us back to Damascus in time. On the way we discussed with he and Victor how we all had misconceptions about each others culture, that Victor thought all Americans were stuck up and Mohammed thought all American women were promiscuous. Of course I had misgivings about security, believing I would not be able to leave the group while in Syria for fear of being kidnapped. As we head back in Mohammed points out a shepherd with his donkey tending sheep just a few hundred yards off the road, a scene that might not have changed for centuries; but then again, he might have a cell phone and laptop under his blankets for all I know.

We also make arrangements for Mohammed and his brother to take us to the airport at nine the next morning and he drops us off by one of the old city gates near to St Ananias’ house. We get there just before 7 and pay our 25 S.P. and the attendants graciously keep it open a bit late to give us time. There is a small church in the basement. Ananias apparently became the head of the Christians in Damascus, a position which eventually cost him his life. But somewhere back in time his home became a church and it has been restored and rebuilt several times over the years. It is situated right on Straight Street. It was humbling to think that Paul and other early believers moved in that area although undoubtedly the street is much changed over time. Touring the site did not take long but Rodney, Carol, Marsha and Angela began singing in the chapel, which is actually underground, and we all gravitated into the room with them. Other believers wandered in as well, and we sang a couple of hymns, including Amazing Grace, in English, and then V, H and the others sang a couple of hymns in Arabic. It was a sweet time of worship. Afterwards we chatted briefly with some missionaries from Jordan and their Lebanese helper. It was her first time to visit Syria and she remarked how she had overcome her prejudice of Syria, born of political intrigue. This was becoming a common theme of the trip.

Victor and the two brothers left us afterwards and we headed back to the monastery with H; just a couple of blocks away I spotted a hooka shop but found no shop-keeper. The man next door spoke excellent English and said he would be back shortly, that he stayed open until 3 a.m., so I planned to return to get a pipe for Neil and Zahra. At the monastery we had a brief time of debriefing concerning our trip where our love and gratitude for each other was most evident. Then Rodney, Carol, Amanda, Jonathan, Marsha and I walked back down towards Ananias’ house to eat dinner at Casa Blanca. On the way I made contact with the hooka shop owner and after a little bargaining on my own, settled on a price to pay when I came back from dinner, about $11 US.

Even our dinner that night was special. I ate light, just onion soup, to keep my fragile stomach happy but still it was excellent. The restaurant was almost empty but for us; nearby was a Syrian couple. But they had live entertainment; a quite gifted musician/singer was playing an ode. We had a great time kidding with him and restaurant staff and the lady sitting near us with her husband almost collapsed with laughter. The restaurant staff brought us a tray of fresh fruit as a gift after dinner. We left happy and full.

I picked up my hooka on the way back and after depositing it in my room, I headed out for one last shopping expedition. I wanted to get some sandals for Eric and myself. I knew it was late but didn’t realize just how late it was: well after midnight. A lot of shops were already closing since we were in the Christian sector but I saw some lights on about a block away. I headed towards them, walking actually in the street with traffic, as is the custom. Down one alley a folk dancing party was in full swing. Lots of young people were out and about. At no time did I feel unsafe or uncomfortable. The shops I came to sold food and clothes but no footwear. Looking to my right I saw some more lights a half a block away and thought I would give them a try before giving up. I did not want to wander too far from the monastery because the streets in Damascus are more like a maze than anything else. Sure enough, there was a leather shop. The shop owner was just closing up but he spoke a little English. He only wanted 300 S.P. per sandal which is less than $7 US. I thought briefly about bargaining for two for 500, but thought of all the modest surroundings I had seen and the fact I was in the Christian sector and way off the beaten shopping path, and it just seemed like it would be insulting. So with a hand shake and a smile we sealed the deal and I left one pair on my feet for the walk back to the monastery, happy to finally have on a different pair of shoes from the trail shoes I had been wearing for eight days. A quick shower and brief chat with Jonathan who had also gone exploring and we called an end to one of the most extraordinary days I have ever lived.

Middle East Trip: Day 8 Part 1

2010-09-11T18:40:00.001-07:00

Day 8: Rich Blessings (Fri, August 27) Part 1

Friday morning began after a good night’s sleep; I woke earlier than just about anyone and took a short walk around the monastery, visiting the well-tended graveyard/gardens and enjoying the morning. My mind and senses have been so overwhelmed by a week in Syria. In Damascus, even early in the morning, it is already warm and everyone just oozes a slow sweat. I have been constantly thirsty for a week in spite of constantly drinking for 1.5 l water bottles which cost only about 50 cents. By the time I get home I will have lost 5 pounds and all of it is due to water loss. Either the food or the spices or some unknown bacteria has been tampering with my GI tract but this morning my stomach feels more settled and everything is under control. Poor Luanne is quite ill and would end up spending the day in bed. The population density is so different than Arkansas, and you see nothing but small shops, be it a car mechanic or clothes or food or you name it. I have seen nothing remotely resembling a big box store. Some of the shops, like in the open market, are quite small, probably only ten by ten. I find it unimaginable working all day in such a small space, and then probably going home to an apartment crowded with your family. What would you do if you just wanted to get away from people for a while? I have seen nothing resembling a park. I guess there is some solitude in the mosques. I guess you could walk out into the desert. People growing up there probably have no other frame of reference and do not even give it any thought.

At breakfast a pastor from Kuwait City shared some stories of how various denominational leaders had been gathering together to study the Bible. Quite encouraging. He shared how they introduce the Bible to Muslim, talking about themes, like the need for blood for cleansing from sin, that thread through the Bible even though written by at least 39 different authors in three different languages. At ten o’clock V and H showed up with H and his brother to take us on a day’s tour. We grab a couple of cabs out front of the monastery to go to the larger cab/bus area in the heart of the Christian quarter where we hire Mohammed for the day, a Muslim who is fasting for Ramadan but drives a mini-bus for a Christian cab company. We drive north out of Damascus, into the countryside, past a prison and up to Sednaya, a predominantly Christian area in the mountains closer to the Lebanese border.

Our first stop in Sednaya s the Patriarchal Monastery of Our Lady of Sednaya on the highest point in town, founded by the Byzantine emperor Justine on the sight of an appearance of Mary, the mother of Jesus. In the Sacristy of the Church is purportedly an original painting by Luke of Mary and the infant Jesus, one of four painting the gospel writer is reported to have painted. V translates as we are given a tour of the sanctuary and as we are leaving by way of the baptistery, we come upon a family who are having their six month old baby, Jamie, christened. The family invites us to witness and we gather and watch the priest baptizing little Jamie and then the family even invited some of women to participate towards the end. This was an amazing moment that seemed so right in that culture and we feel so privileged to have been allowed to be part of it.

We visited another church in the town, visited a couple of shops (including a candy shop, or course) and then went outside the town of visit St Elias Shrine, where tradition says Elijah was taken up to heaven. I have to confess I still possess a cynical streak that God has yet to completely root out and I am fearful at times we were somewhat disrespectful of our Christian brothers and their respect for tradition. Fortunately love covers a multitude of sins and we headed further up into the hills to visit a monastery on the site of some caves where Christians used to hide from persecution.

On the way up to this monastery we stopped for lunch at an outdoor restaurant overlooking the valley and enjoyed a wonderful meal. I was glad my stomach felt better for I had the first fish I had eaten in Syria and it was wonderful. But better than that was the fact that Jamie and his family showed up and where now accompanied by extended family from around the area, including Lebanon. They brought Jamie to our table, even gave the women some decorations off the christening cake, and a bit later traditional music was accompanied by dancing and many of our team joined in after getting quick lessons on the fundamental dance moves. It was truly a magical time.

We spend the rest of the afternoon at the monastery, enjoying the cooler breezes in the higher mountains, and saw a few small clouds along the peaks just west of us at the Lebanese border. They were the first clouds we had seen since arriving in Syria a week before We took many group photos as we knew this was probably one of the last times we would be together with our new brothers in Christ.. About six we loaded up the mini-van and headed back down the hill, asking Mohammed to try and get us to St Ananias’ house in Damascus by seven.

Middle East Trip: Day 7

2010-09-09T07:05:00.000-07:00

Day 7: Leaving Bloudan (Fri August 27)

What they say about company and fish seems to hold true at our hotel. The entire fifth floor has a peculiar odor which seems to emanate from the sewer connections. Sitting on the balcony grants a reprieve but as I finish packing that morning I know I will not miss that smell.
The morning service was special. After bilingual worship Carol gave her testimony and then Rodney taught the final lesson. As we prayed near the conclusion I suddenly and unexpectedly began to weep. I was confused what I was experiencing. I prayed to the Lord, telling him I was not sure we had done what He wanted. A great peace and calm welled up inside of me as I felt the comfort of the Lord, as He simply asked me to rest in His love, that, sure, at times we stepped on cultural toes and at times I put my foot in my mouth, but that we had had done exactly what He asked of us and that the rest was in His hands. Marsha and other team members passed out rocks to all the attendees and they were asked to take some burden or hurt that God has shown them and bring it to the foot of the cross. And so began an extended period of prayer, reflection and cleansing as many came forward. I was so thankful for auto focus because tears constantly blurred my vision. I held onto my small rock as a reminder to pray for E and the evangelical church in Syria.
Afterwards many heart-felt good-byes were shared, email addresses were confirmed and partings were sealed with hugs and kisses on both cheeks, men as well as women. The conference had been a special time of fellowship and I would sorely miss them, All too soon we were on a bus, headed for Damascus, but still attended by quite a few of our new friends who would be staying in Damascus as well, waiting for their flights to depart over the weekend. On the bus ride I had a final opportunity to talk with C from Pakistan. He is quite a remarkable man, speaking five languages and very committed to the Lord and to his family.
Our destination in Damascus is a couple of monasteries in the Christian quarter which have a hostel-like area in which people can stay. We are splitting our group between the two monasteries for security reasons: the tension between Egypt and Algeria preclude them being housed together. But initially we are dropped off once again at the open air market since we have a couple of hours before we are to show up at the monasteries, although our team is dragging after all we have been through the past week. We did a little shopping but spent a lot of time at an open air café right outside the Umayyad mosque. We ended up missing the bus because it was getting into rush hour and the police would not let the bus stop in the taxi zone where they had dropped us off. So a group of us ended up having to take taxis to catch up with everyone at the first monastery.
I will never forget that taxi ride. There are no traffic laws in Damascus, very few traffic lights, and the taxi drivers could hold their own on a Nascar circuit. We are whipping through traffic, narrow missing pedestrians and cyclists. At least three time I suck in my breath as we just miss a collision; at least one there is a pop as the side view mirror hits something. We get lost and are whizzing down narrow streets with children just feet away. Amazing sights, like a bike which has the front wheel replaced with a rear one with disc brake pad on it. I see a horse drawn cart with traditional fringe barreling down the narrow street towards us with the horse at near full speed. The taxi driver futilely attempts a U turn into one way traffic and after a few minutes, bales on that idea and does another U turn across the traffic. All the while the two teenage girls with me and W, R and R, are calmly chewing gum and texting their friends. They say this is nothing compared to Cairo where they drive. I resolve to pray for them.
Arriving at the first monastery there is much confusion as bags are unloaded and sorted for those staying and reloaded for those of us heading to the other monastery. Unknown to me my suitcase is left hidden behind the monastery wall. Because of the narrowness of the street the bus has to back up several hundred yards to be able to leave. As they are working to clear traffic behind the bus, H climbs on the bus holding my vitamin dispenser and ask if it belongs to anyone because the bag it came from is not on the bus. As H and I retrieve my suitcase the bus is backing up. There is this scene of a huge bus backing down the street, people shouting and horns blaring, and me and H walking down the middle of the street, pulling my suitcase and trying to keep up with the bus. I look up at the bus driver and am amazed at his calmness. Just another day at the office for him apparently. After the bus backs out, the doors open and I happily climb back on board and we are off to our monastery.
Our monastery rooms are clean, simple and have air-conditioning. We are so thankful. Damascus is considerably warmer than Bloudan; I don’t believe I could have slept well without the AC. H is a guardian angel again, retrieving Jonathan's iphone and Carol's Bible that were left on the bus. We have dinner with our friends at Casa Blanca restaurant which is in the old part of Damascus, maybe a ten minute walk from the monastery, and just a hundred yards or so off of Straight Street and Ananias’ house. After a wonderful meal and time of fellowship it was hit the showers and then the bed for a good night of rest.

Middle East Trip: Day 6 Part 2

2010-09-08T15:23:00.000-07:00

Day 6: Off to Damascus

During the morning service the worship time was sweet. As the week as progressed more and more of the service is in Arabic and sometime I am clueless what is going on around me. Apparently earlier some reconciliation took place between Algerian and Egyptian attendees whose countries had been at odds over World Cup Soccer qualification games last November, but I pretty much missed the significance of it. The music today reminded me of my early morning walk as we sang how the mountains will one day bow down to the Lord. Some of the Algerian attendees gave a presentation about how God is working in Algeria, with 32 registered churches and many more house churches and large number of Muslims coming to faith in Christ even as they keep their Muslim names.
At times there were long periods of what I assumed was housekeeping business in Arabic and my mind started to wander. I had felt the first pangs of homesickness that morning. While the streets are clean as far as garbage and such, there is an enormous amount of litter and as I headed back to the hotel I longed for the rural highways I cycle and the comparatively small amount of litter. I also reflected how God had gotten my attention, how I was experience numerous blessings, albeit some small and silly, but how back at home I probably experience the same thing but miss nearly all of them as I get wound up in my own agenda with emails, text messages and communicating constantly electronically and verbally and visually. I prayed I might stay as sensitive to God’s presence when I get home.
I missed Monica giving her testimony because we headed off with the young adults for our last session with just them. The concluding choice was to be taught to the combined group tomorrow morning. I have grown so fond of these young men and women. Most of them have such sweet tender spirits; a far cry to the anger and cynicism I demonstrated as a young man. In a way I wonder if our western culture isn’t in a way going to destroy something unique and special, that mass communication and mobility might weaken their love of tradition. I have to remind myself that I am probably in a bubble of sorts, being with Christian leaders, and that the culture they live in might present a surface peace but the people in the Middle East have the same sin nature as the rest of us and that perhaps hidden and not spoken of could be many deep and lingering hurts. At any rate I will not soon forget the soft gentleness of these lovely young men and women.
After lunch everyone at the conference loaded a couple of buses and we headed into Damascus, stopping briefly to snack on prickly pear cactus fruit (not a favorite with me). In Damascus the prime objective for everyone was shopping and I was fortunate to be escorted by C and E, the two Pakistanis. They helped me negotiate a good price for an outfit for my wife. I enjoyed watching them negotiate and tried to pick up some pointers. For all the emotion and gestures, the negotiation seems as much sport as seriousness, a game of social interaction with its own rules of engagement. When a bargain is struck everyone is all smiles and shaking hands. I am not sure I would enjoy the process every time I wanted to make a significant purchase.
From the Christian section we moved to the open market which was a scene out of a Hollywood blockbuster, just an overwhelming stream of sight, sound and smells. At time I am overwhelmed by the sheer number of people and how densely all the shops are positioned.
We also visited the Umayyad mosque, the largest in Syria which reportedly contains a sarcophagus that hold the head of John the Baptist. I found myself praying a lot for the men and women going into the mosque, that they might take a look at what John the Baptist said about Jesus, that God might reveal to them who Jesus truly is.
As Americans we have a certain notoriety. When people learn where we are from they are initially surprised; Americans have been few and far between in Damascus for the last 24 years. Our embassy had just reopened this spring for the first time since 1984, and still getting a visa for coming into Syria is not an easy process. But once they get over their initial surprise we are overwhelmed by their warmth and hospitality. An amazing number speak some English and to me it appears that the more educated on is the more English they tend to know.
We visited a church and walked a long distance and that many of us ended up at a coffee shop for snack and to rest. I don’t think I will ever forget my brief conversation with S. She was in our young adult group but I had not had any one on one time with her. At the coffee shop she told me about the work she did helping young women in Cairo. Then suddenly she stopped and looked right in my eyes. She said simply and purely “I love you.” To me it could have been the voice of God is was so sweet and pure and unpretentious. I told her I loved her too and marveled at a God who could allow them to so openly and innocently express their emotions.
Returning late to Bloudan I was surprised both by my hunger and by our meal: very close to chicken fried steak (sans the cream gravy), Cole slaw and French fries. Was this just another small blessing in response to my homesickness? I stayed up late, way past 1 a.m. knowing this was my last chance to visit with my new friends, that by tomorrow afternoon we would all be on our separate ways.

Middle East Trip: Day 6 Part 1

2010-09-07T06:44:00.000-07:00

Day 6: Blessed Morning (Wed, 8/25)

As the week as progressed I have slowly adapted to the rhythm of life in Bloudan. Between Ramadan and the heat, most people get active sometime after sunset and stay up late. I actually went to bed earlier than I anticipated after the trip to Moses’ cave. I had planned to walk up to the internet café to send messages home but the young people warned me that all public computers are infected with programs that will steal you passwords and info. It seemed too much bother to create bogus accounts and not have access to my address book so I gave up the idea, but nonetheless it was well after mid-night before I got to sleep.

My sleep pattern had been to wake up early in the morning when the temps started to cool to quickly use the bathroom and finally pull a cover over me before going back to sleep. This morning was the same, but as I lay back down in the pre-dawn darkness the power suddenly went off and our ceiling fan slowly came to a halt. I got up and went on the porch and looked out over the valley which was without lights except for a small cluster on the far side. The sky was just beginning to brighten as the sun nudged toward the horizon. Jonathan woke up, and thinking I had turned the fan off because of the coolness, asked if we could at least put it on low. After filling him in on the situation I remembered my prayer of the night before, thought about it and said, okay Lord. After drinking a strawberry-banana drink and eating a cereal bar I had brought from home, I slipped into my clothes, grabbed my camera and headed out on to the deserted streets of Bloudan.

While making images right in front of the hotel I ran into a couple of the waiters from the restaurant coming to work. They put in very long days; some would still be at work when we got back from Damascus that night. Walking a block or so from the hotel I ran into a group of four young men who had just got off work from an adjoining hotel. Initially I hung back from them, not knowing what to expect, but when they spotted me they quickly doubled back and approached me and asked me where I was from. After a brief friendly exchange they waved good-bye and said they needed to get some sleep.

For the next hour I wandered to the outskirts of Bloudan, creating images and interrupted only occasionally by a car speeding to some unknown destination. As I left the town I was rewarded with some incredible vistas of the mountains and valleys, and as I walked I prayed and sang hymns out loud. I was overcoming by a sense of timeliness, that some of the first believers, perhaps some that heard Jesus preach in person or been healed by him, might have walked these very hills. After all, the Sea of Galilee is but a couple days walk away. As I praised the Lord for bring me here and revealing Himself at work in Syria I was reminded of Luke 19, when the Pharisees tried to get Jesus to silence his followers and He told them even the stones would cry out if they were to keep quiet

Much humbled by the whole experience I headed back to the hotel, running into a group of Iraqi street sweepers as I neared my destination. The oldest one said he was headed to Texas in four months time to visit a friend and hopefully find work. What a small world we live in at times. Back at the hotel I joined the team for morning devotional and ate breakfast and bought a kilo of almonds. I was ready for another day of watching the Lord at work.

Middle East Trip: Day 5

2010-09-06T09:19:00.000-07:00

Day 5: Housecleaning Choice

Today proved to be an amazing day. The day started with some conferees joining us for our morning devotional. In closing they prayed the Lord’s Prayer in Arabic which was a very cool experience. Our schedule at the conference is revised daily and since Rodney was scheduled to teach three consecutive sessions to the adults, he asked me to teach one of them, the fourth choice, the housecleaning choice, where we make an honest inventory of those who have hurt us and those we have hurt and share that inventory with another human being. So in the morning session I gave my testimony, which I had pared down quite a bit but should have edited even more. For me it seemed to drag with the interpreter. Afterwards a lady approached me and said: You know, for many of these people you are the first person they have ever met who has been restored from drug use. Apparently in their culture with its emphasis on protecting family honor, if you were to engage in the behavior I did as a young man: being heavily involved with drugs and ignoring my family for several years, you would be written off permanently. So the concept of sharing shameful secrets with another person raised more than a few questions in the minds of the conferees as I gave the details of the housecleaning lesson. Initially there were statements how this could not work in their culture and questions about whether the one you share with could be your wife or your priest. I did my best to answer as the Lord led me, emphasizing how unresolved hurts and resentments were eating away at me before I shared them, how God had healed me of that, and that these principles were being applied in other cultures besides America.
I kept trying to move us into the small group environment where I thought we could answer questions more one on one, but W____ kept the Q & A open. In his wisdom he knew his community better than I, that as a group they needed to air their opinions and questions, and at the end he spoke eloquently how God had to address his heart concerning how God might work in these principles and asked the conferees to keep an open mind. Afterwards everyone was warm and friendly, lots of group photos were made and by the end of the day I felt certain that God was at work. That said I was more than happy to return to my comfort zone working with the young adults that afternoon.
That evening was a great one for fellowship. We horsed around a bit with the owner of the hotel, an 83 year old gentleman who loved to shake your hand and then squeeze it hard at the knuckles, and of course, you were to try and get the best of him as well. We also gained even more favor with the wait staff when we gave out some of the extra T-shirts we had brought to use with the young adults as prizes. On my way to the WC Mohammed, one of the waiters with whom I was connecting, showed me the hooka pipes (although they have different name for them) they had there at the hotel. 200 Syrian pounds (a little less than $5 US) buys you a cube of flavor soaked tobacco to smoke. I begged off but he insisted I take a taste, which I did. As the cube glowed as I inhaled I thought this was not too good of an idea: a bit of a trigger for me. Yet smoking is a big pastime in Syria, for both men and women; the idea of a smoke free environment has no standing there. And I had already priced the cost of a pipe as a present for my older son: about 1500 S.P. in the shops in Bloudan, though that is the pre-bargaining price You bargain for everything.
Another example of the generosity of the people at the conference is one of the attendees paid the way for a large crowd of us, our team included, to go to “Moses’ Cave”, which was actually the excavation created when they mined certain rock to build the Grand Hotel in Bloudan back in the 1930’s. A man with an artistic bend had put in sculptures and pools and furnishing and named it after his grandfather. We had a wonderful time horsing around but I sometimes wonder how I behavior is perceived by people outside our party. On the way back down the hill our small bus took us through a lot of back streets and I commented how nice it would be to go for a walk in them and make photographs. My fear of the unknown and being away from the team and conference was beginning to subside and I silently asked the Lord to give me an opportunity to walk these streets. I was soon to be amazed by how quickly he answered that prayer.

Middle East Trip: Day 4

2010-09-05T10:58:00.000-07:00

Day 4: Cultural Education

Jonathan and I got our wires crossed and overslept and missed morning devotional. Sure did sleep extremely well Sunday night. Jonathan allowed my to play his Taylor guitar a bit before bed. Maybe that is what did it. It was the fulfillment of a life long dream of sitting on balcony overlooking Syria and playing bluegrass music and hymns. Hah! I could not even dream such a scenario.

At any rate since I showed up early for breakfast, the wait staff insisted I sit at the table set aside for our team and when I begged off to sit and visit with I_____ and C______ from Pakistan, I could not get anything to eat or drink. Apparently I was messing with their system but when everyone else showed up after devotional I moved and all was okay. At the end of breakfast I bargained with the street vender just below us to buy a half kilo of almonds. Paid a bit too much in my first transaction but it was Marsha’s money anyhow and so began my addiction to Syrian nuts of all kinds, but particularly almonds.

During the morning session Larry gave his testimony and many in attendance were deeply moved. After his testimony the whole assembly prayed for Larry and Monica; many tears were shed.

In session with the young adults I taught the house-cleaning choice, where we inventory our stuff and share it with at least one other person with whom we have build a relationship of mutual trust. I believe it was almost too much information at one time but afterward in the small groups I could sense the young men opening up a bit more and examining and testing the process. At our lunch break J_____ and I walked up the street to buy some water. As we crossed the busy street, he took my arm and guided me. I was very much touched by his caring. J______ even insisted on paying for my water (about 50 cents US for 1.5 litre) and a can of pineapple juice. J_____ is very indicative the generous spirit of the people attending the conference. And the fruit juice was incredible! I bought several more to enjoy first thing in the morning.

Also during our afternoon break E_____ and I talked at some length about ministry in Syria, and the complexity of law and religion in the Middle East. For the last few months there has been pressure on evangelical churches. His church of 350 have had to change location several times because non-orthodox churches can not get security clearances to meet off church property. Some of the pressure is coming from the hierarchy of the Orthodox church who fear loss of members to the evangelical churches. Yet on the local level there is often support from Orthodox priests. E_____ explains that relationships supercede laws in the Middle East which allows them to meet in apartments until someone blows the whistle on them.

Later that night we take a “Tuff Tuff” ride up to an overlook of Bloudan. The Tuff Tuff is a colorful three car shuttle that takes people on a fun ride. Ours was not in the best of shape: the high tech one had a lap top in the cab and nice stereo. Ours had broken benches and doors that tend to fly open on sharp curves. As Dick has said earlier: “This is why we have trip insurance.” What a sight we must have been as we careened by shops and cafes, traditional Arabic music blaring so loudly it was to the point of distortion and we American laughing and shouting “Baloza” in honor of the ice cream we had just eaten and the fact it was the only Arabic word we had learned. At times might cheeks started to hurt from laughing so much,

Middle East Trip: Day 3

2010-09-04T07:44:00.000-07:00

Day 3: The Reality Choice

Our first day at the conference was Sunday morning. The two hotels where the conference attendees were staying sits on the corner of the intersection of a couple of main streets in Bloudan. Immediately behind the hotels sits a beautiful Syrian Orthodox Church. After the Islamic calls for prayer had faded away the church bells rang out calling believers to morning mass. I later wandered up the church during mass and heard the sounds of chants being sung that probably date back centuries. I felt an admiration for a more liturgical worship style that was foreign to me, having grown up largely unchurched and what exposure I had was almost exclusively in the Protestant tradition. The liturgical style seemed to blend seamlessly with the traditional culture that still dominates the Middle East.
We had breakfast at the outdoor restaurant; the food is good but such a different taste to my palette. There are a few items I am so-so about. Yet so far all of us have remained healthy. We quickly began to enjoy the warm hospitality of the Kurdish wait staff. They genuinely seem to like Americans; later in the morning they would invite me to join a card game which I would have to reluctantly decline since I was scheduled to teach. We held our morning devotional in the lobby downstairs. I am impressed with what I have seen so far of the buildings. The facilities are kept reasonably clean, especially in high traffic areas. The interiors are amazing, complete with tile and marble floors, high ceilings, wood paneling and carvings, elaborate chandeliers and engraved ceilings. But money seems to be lacking for maintenance and incidentals. An electric hand dryer or a soap dispenser may be on the wall but neither will work. Paper towels and tissues are not to be found lying around. I quickly developed the habit of stuffing tissues (used for napkins at mealtime) into my pockets for when I have to visit a public restroom because toilet paper will not be supplied. From the look of the exteriors and the streets, building permits, zoning laws and safety standards are either lax or non-existent. Home construction seems to be an ongoing multi-generational project, which makes sense in the fact of the fact that people have lived in this area for thousands of years.

The conference began about noon. Initially less than 100 people showed up but many were resting after getting up in the wee hours to travel in from Egypt and other locations in the Middle East. Many more showed up after lunch, which was at 3 in the afternoon. Not only is the schedule in the Middle East later that in the west, but it resembles Latin culture in its approach to punctuality. I taught the Reality Choice to the young adults (ages 16-25): Realize I am not God. I admit that I am powerless to control my tendency to do the wrong thing and that my life is unmanageable. This was the first time in my life I have ever taught using an interpreter, which was L____. The lesson went reasonably well, and Angela saved the day by sitting next to the computer operator to keep the proper slides in Arabic up as we went through the lesson. We broke into our small discussion groups and W____ and L___’s son, S___, was the interpreter for our men’s group. I do not know if this was their first exposure to open and transparent sharing or not, but it was interesting. J_____, who worked nearby at one of the hotels and was probably Muslim, sat in on our first session. I liked him. He was a small young men who later showed me scars on his arm he got when he was 13 year old while hunting wild dogs in the hills surrounding Bloudan. He would love to come to American: his hero was Michael Jackson and he later showed me his moonwalk which would have made the “King of Pop” proud

The pattern for the conference’s day schedule was already being set that first day. We would take a late afternoon break when a short nap was wise if not mandatory. People would begin to filter back into the rooms shortly after the scheduled start time and we would begin somewhere about 30 -30 minutes “late”, i.e. off the designated time. We would have a lesson and small group time, and then meet again for dinner sometime after dark. Since it was Ramadan and also to avoid the heat, shops would open only after sunset. Those who had the energy would then stay out past midnight socializing and shopping. It would take me a day or two adjust to the schedule but I would eventually adopt it in my own way.
That first night E____ walked me down a half a block from the hotel to a small shop where I could exchange dollars of Syrian pounds. The shop keeper’s daughter was manning the front door and after E______ explained my need she called her dad on the cell phone she held and he was there within a matter of a couple of minutes. I exchanged $200 and received 9200 Syrian pounds. I felt flushed with cash.
We all retired pretty early. A shower was a necessity before lying down to be comfortable as the temperatures slowly fell. I loved the view from our balcony, with the lights glittering in the valley below. Early in the day before dinner I had sat on the balcony and listened to the evening call for prayer from two different mosques. That evening Jonathan let me borrow his guitar and for 15 or 20 minutes before bed I got to play music on the porch. I really like his Taylor guitar. As we fell asleep the voices of the people moving about enjoying the relative coolness of the evening kept rising up on breeze and it reminded me of the reality that I was in a whole different world and culture.

Middle East Trip: Day 2

2010-09-02T06:55:00.000-07:00

Day 2: Arrival

After layovers in Atlanta and Prague we touched down in Damascus close to 23 hours after taking off from XNA. The flight in from Prague was only half full: Syria is not a prime travel destination I’m thinking. I would later learn that the American Embassy has only reopened this past spring for the first time since 1984. As Americans traveling in Syria we were going to appear a bit of a novelty. Almost immediately my senses were overwhelmed with sights and sounds that were new and novel. At the airport many men and women wore traditional clothing including burqas.

We all stayed close together as we passed through customs. In one line a middle aged Syrian in contemporary clothes turned around, looked me over from head to toe, looked back my eyes, smiled and said: “Hello”. I immediately felt a bit more at ease. Wahid and Laila soon found us after we cleared customs with warm greetings. We were all touched when we saw the mother of an Iraqi family that traveled with us on the plane run up to her father joyously, even falling to his feet and hugging them as they greeted. For me it was an untold story. I wondered if the trouble in Iraq had played a role in splitting up their family, or of keeping them separated for some time.

Wahid got us loaded in a mini-bus. I was cautioned not to take pictures at the airport; it might be deemed sensitive for security reasons. Soon we were rolling through the streets of Damascus, the luggage piled precariously in back and Carol at times propping herself again the pile to keep it from descending on top of all of us.

Bloudon is a resort town in the mountains west of Damascus, about an hour away by bus. The town is warm but breezy when we arrive, and we are quickly taken in and led to our rooms, which are clean if modest. We are without air-conditioning, just a large ceiling fan, but we have a porch and windows to help ventilate. The staff deliver two towels, four 1.5 litre water bottles and a roll of toilet paper to the room I share with Jonathan Holder. Dick Nelson is on the one side of us, Rodney and Carol Holmstorm on the other side.

We have dinner at the outdoor restaurant downstairs which is all unfamiliar but tasty food to me. Tired from the traveling (I only slept a total of maybe 4 ½ hours on the plane) and wanting to be fresh for the morning start of teaching, we headed off for bed. Not that good of an idea. Because of Ramadan, the heat and the resort atmosphere, Bloudon only starts to really come a live at sunset. Our first night was probably my worst as far as sleep. I was repeatedly awaken by loud motorcycles racing through the streets in front of the hotel. I was later told that was probably Saudi’s who like to vacation in Bloudon. I was also awaken by some sort of firework/sparkler that sounded like wood burning. I woke up wondering where I was, then thinking the hotel was on fire and panicking a bit when I remembered they had not returned our passports. I had visions of me running out in the streets in the middle of the night dressed in nothing but my athletic shorts and without my passport and knowing no Arabic. I quickly realized it couldn’t be a fire because there is no wood in the hotel to burn: all stone, concrete and tile.Although it was at time light and fitful sleep, I went back to sleep and it felt good.

Middle East Trip: Day 1

2010-09-01T14:14:00.001-07:00

Prologue: Friday August 20

The Friday of our departure was yet another warm morning in a string of hot days. The Lord had certainly acclimated us to the Middle Eastern heat with weeks of heat advisories and near 100 degree temperatures About mid-morning I double checked my bags, put an away message on my work cell phone and turned off my personal phone and left for the airport, occasionally double-checking my neck holder for my passport, money and plane ticket.

As my younger son Eric drove me to XNA I marveled at how God had brought me to this point. How was it that a very ordinary man from northwest Arkansas, who four months ago did not even have a passport, who for decades had struggled with substance abuse, who came into Celebrate Recovery six years ago as a depressed insomniac, how was it he would be flying to Syria to teach lessons to Christian leaders who grew up literally in Jesus’ backyard? Simple concerns ran through my mind as well. How would my body react to confinement in an airplane for up to 12 hours at a time? Had I spent enough time in preparing the lessons to teach? How would I respond to the eight hour time difference?

As we cruised through the Arkansas countryside I was so grateful for the many prayers that were covering this trip. A week earlier when out team had our final meeting we discussed how spiritual warfare had been intense that preceding week. For some it was external challenges, for others the attacks came through close personal relationships with unexpected arguments, but some, like me, the struggle was largely internal. Self-doubt was an old and familiar companion of mine. Who are you, doubt would whisper, to go and teach these people anything? You know little to nothing about their culture, you know hardly a word of Arabic, you are 30 years or more older than these young adults you are supposed to be with so how can you relate to their lives? And just look how messed up your life has been! Who do you think you are?

Of course the answer I am nobody. But God reminded me through scripture and other believers, that is just the point. If I go full of what I can do with my own agenda, there would little room for God to use me. God delights in using the ordinary in extraordinary ways so that He might be glorified. And if God can use Balaam’s donkey to speak, there is hope he can use me too. The good aspect of the spiritual warfare was it drove me deeper into the arms of Christ. I refocused, and sought out as many prayer partners as I could. And I spent additional time myself in Bible reading and prayer. During those times God encouraged me to leave all methods of electronic communication behind, that for the ten days of the trip my focus was on what He might be doing, how He might ask me to join him in a specific way and perhaps might “speak” a personal word or two to me as well. During last week of preparation a certain peace reigned until the night before we left. Then I believe everyone on the team experienced this same thought: “Oh, my, am I crazy? What am I doing?” By morning calm had returned and a ready or not here I go attitude settled in.

At the airport a few good friends took time off from their day to see us off and after bags were checked we prayed and took pictures and hugged and said our good-byes. In what seemed like a blink of an eye we were buckled into our seats and airborne. As the plane banked almost directly over my house and climbed into the summer sky above the Ozark Mountains we all looked at each other and said: This is it! We really are going to Syria!

Heart Gallery Portraits

2009-03-04T14:39:00.000-08:00

Over the past year or so we have been able to participate in the Heart Gallery of Northwest Arkansas, a project of the Northwest Arkansas Adoption Coalition. There are currently 845 children in Arkansas waiting for a new home, and sadly this number continues to grow each day. Each of these children dream of a home filled with unconditional love and understanding. The NWA Adoption Coalition is working to fulfill this dream. In NWA there are approximately 19 children currently waiting on their forever home. If you are interested in more information here is a link to their web site: http://www.nwaheartgallery.org/