There is nothing quite like the feeling of nerves you get before a trip like this. It's a mixture of excitement and general trepidation; somewhere between "did I forget my wallet at the gas station in Tennessee - I feel like I'm going to throw up!" and "they'll never take our... FREEDOM!!!" Maybe a better example is Frazil ice, (too fast to freeze, too cold move freely). As much as I like adventures, this part I could do without. It's a necessary evil I guess, hard to truly appreciate the choices we're making without first experiencing the doubts that circle overhead like vultures. Come to think of it, I guess it wouldn't be too far off base to look at these moments of doubt as an opening round between boxers - shifty punches to test speed and movement; strategies of defense and attack. In chess, a whole match can be won or lost on the decisions made in the opening moves. How you see threats and most especially how you respond to them when they make their way upon you. The way I see it, these little nervous moments - as innocuous as they may seem - often stem from and uncover some of the biggest fears we hold so deeply in the basest reaches of our souls. These fears are the stinking, rot that you smell long before you can see. The fear is driven by a seed of doubt in the character of God that has become rooted and shouts above the truth, "How WEAK the father's love for us, how SMALL beyond all measure. That he should care... not likely chump! You're a wretch, not a treasure." This doubt's final word says, "the father can not be trusted, because he chooses not to love you that well.
---
Before we left for Sweden, I would have said there are only 2 things that really frighten me into inaction:
- Zombies. The idea of someone being dead, but still alive is incredibly troubling for me. This became more troubling after Dawn of the Dead when they gave a logical answer for how this could happen. To this day, I have still only seen 3 zombie movies (only one of which I liked) - Sean of the Dead (which was hilarious.), Dawn of the dead (because I hate not dealing with my fears head on and it was free), and I Am Legend (because I was tricked into seeing it).
- Failure. Since I got married this fear has stopped me from doing more awesome things with my life than I can shake a stick at. In my Spirit I will know, God is saying to me, "move here", or "do this thing... Just trust me, Shea" and in disobedience, I will stand still because the comfort of inaction is so much more... comfortable. At least until God decides to move me out of disobedience by spiritually breaking my legs.
---
I'm not kidding when I say, he came out smiling [of course at that point it was because of gas] and without missing a beat everyone who saw him would smile in response. It doesn't matter how tough, scary, closed off, or mad you may be - one smile from that kid and every defense just melts away. Before you know it, you're left standing there - a grown adult - with this stupid grin on your face saying gibberish in a voice that is 2 octaves higher than normal. I guess that's what happens when pure innocence collides with the human soul.
At the Detroit airport it was no different. His charisma charmed everyone from the ladies at the ticket booth, security line operators, and finally to the manager of a few shops in the airport named, Mohammed.
I waited in line and saw the dour expressions of everyone at the restaurant kiosk, I saw Mohammed get frustrated at how things were going and I think that somewhere deep down I wanted to buy my food and leave the premises. Not because I had any concern that Mohammed was going to blow up a building or shoot all the patrons, I didn't think he was a terrorist. I wish I could say there was a good reason for being nervous near him, but I can't. I was nervous because he is Islamic.
 |
| My new friend Mohammed |
As is usually the case though, the truth is much uglier than the lie. In my case, the truth is that I was afraid of Mohammed because he believed in Islam. I feared his reaction to the my sharing of the gospel - I feared his rejection and his questions I was too ignorant to answer. To my shame, I feared talking to this man who has probably been feared by Americans (not so secretly) ever since he came to reunite with his wife and daughter 3 years ago. This was not my proudest moment.
---
As I mentioned earlier, I'm not one to back down from a fear, especially when I become self-aware of the problem. This was no different.
My son's absurd cuteness brought Mohammed over to talk. We talked about being fathers of daughters and sons, we talked about Libya, we talked about the insanity of radicalized religion, about brokenness, desperation, fear, failure, loneliness and before long we talked about Jesus being the only way available to find true satisfaction. I told Mohammed that there are no amount of good works he can do to earn his place before God - that only Jesus was able to bear that burden.
Funny how it was because of Jeremy and that disarming smile that Mohammed and I both got to hear about the Gospel. Turns out Jesus wasn't kidding when he said, "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of Heaven." Sadly, Mohammed never accepted Christ as being the only way, but he invited me to come back and say hello when we come through town. I can't wait to do just that.
1 Cor. 1:27 - "But God chose the foolish things of this world to shame the wise, he chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong."
No comments:
Post a Comment