Yesterday I chauffeured an Iraqi woman and her brother to the Citizenship Office downtown to help her submit information for her green card application. Having come to the US over a year ago after spending 3 years in Turkey, both the brother and sister's English and ability to navigate Atlanta traffic are still quite limited.
Throughout the 2 hour excursion, they were filled with profuse thanks, as I'm sure I would be if I found myself in a strange country, after fleeing my homeland, and spending years in a refugee holding camp.
After about the 50th "Thank you too much," I said to the brother, "Do you know I am helping you?"
A pause. I knew the question was redundant.
"I am helping you because every day Jesus helps me. Jesus is helping you too. Thank Jesus."
The delighted Muslim affirmed, "Yes, yes. ... Jesus."
Forty-five minutes later, after looping around the spaghetti bowl of Atlanta highways, we finally refreshed ourselves with some water back at the ministry center.
The profuse thanks began again: "Thank you too much. Thank you too much."
"Samar," I looked him in the eye, gently quizzing him, "why am I helping you?"
"Because of Jesus. Jesus helps you. So you help me. Thank you, Jesus." He understood! I was admittedly surprised.
Before yesterday, I had not met this family, but they've known my team for a year. The brother told me that the team leader is "a very good man; my very good friend."
My team supplied me with some background about Samar and his sister. They are strong Muslims. Both their English and their health are poor, which makes it difficult to hold ample-paying jobs. They receive financial assistance from the local mosque to help them pay rent.
I do not know the state of their hearts, but I pray that the more love they experience from people who directly connect it to the salvation of Christ, the more their hearts will be softened to understand and receive the gospel.
Throughout the 2 hour excursion, they were filled with profuse thanks, as I'm sure I would be if I found myself in a strange country, after fleeing my homeland, and spending years in a refugee holding camp.
After about the 50th "Thank you too much," I said to the brother, "Do you know I am helping you?"
A pause. I knew the question was redundant.
"I am helping you because every day Jesus helps me. Jesus is helping you too. Thank Jesus."
The delighted Muslim affirmed, "Yes, yes. ... Jesus."
Forty-five minutes later, after looping around the spaghetti bowl of Atlanta highways, we finally refreshed ourselves with some water back at the ministry center.
The profuse thanks began again: "Thank you too much. Thank you too much."
"Samar," I looked him in the eye, gently quizzing him, "why am I helping you?"
"Because of Jesus. Jesus helps you. So you help me. Thank you, Jesus." He understood! I was admittedly surprised.
Before yesterday, I had not met this family, but they've known my team for a year. The brother told me that the team leader is "a very good man; my very good friend."
My team supplied me with some background about Samar and his sister. They are strong Muslims. Both their English and their health are poor, which makes it difficult to hold ample-paying jobs. They receive financial assistance from the local mosque to help them pay rent.
I do not know the state of their hearts, but I pray that the more love they experience from people who directly connect it to the salvation of Christ, the more their hearts will be softened to understand and receive the gospel.
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