barb's journal 2017

It's hard to believe that it is nearly three years since our first trip to the Middle East/North Africa. Dave had just joined Living Stones International a few months before, and his first trip was February 2017. I was blessed beyond measure when I learned that the Living Stones Board had decided it would be a good idea for me to travel with Dave that first trip. They thought I should get a first-hand understanding of the ministry my husband was called to. This was wise of the Board. Although I had been devouring the stories of our persecuted brothers and sisters in the Living Stones newsletters for several years prior to Dave joining the ministry, I found that reading the stories was very different from being there in person. One phrase that kept coming to my mind was "I didn't even know what it was that I didn't know."


While our kids have all traveled to several different countries, before this trip, the only other country we had traveled to was Canada (we are from northern Wisconsin -- not much of a culture shock involved in a trip to Canada!). Who knew that once we became empty nesters, that the Lord would call us to this international ministry with such different cultures?


We were there to do ministry -- this was not a vacation. And that was how we wanted it. It was exhausting, both physically and emotionally in so many ways, yet I was encouraged, inspired, and, weirdly, as from a vacation, refreshed in so many ways. One way I experienced this was through the hospitality we were blessed with. I could go on and on with multiple stories to illustrate this, but I will choose just one to share.

We were in Jordan, visiting Iraqi refugees. Waseem and his family lived very similarly to all the Iraqi refugee families that we visited. They had harrowing stories of fleeing ISIS’s violence in fear with few possessions, not knowing where they would end up. After a long, difficult journey, they ended up in Jordan as refugees living in a very modest home and not allowed to work. Here they waited as they hoped to be granted a chance to live in another country, in their case, Australia, which of course would be vastly different from their home and culture.


Because their apartment was chilly, with only a space heater for warmth in the cement block building, several of us left our jackets on. We ate in a room that served as a dining room, living room and bedroom. There was no engaging décor on the walls. We sat on what was available: chairs, short stools and the beds lined along the long makeshift table made up of multiple shorter tables. There were 11 of us gathered into that humble room: Waseem’s family of 5, our team of 5 and our Jordanian contact. We filled the room from one end to the other. I am sure they must have borrowed items from neighbors in order to accommodate us. The food they served us was unbelievable! Dish after dish of piping hot, lovingly made, and beautifully presented Arabic food. Along with the ever-present, delicious Arabic coffee, strong and hot, and served in small glasses. This was all followed by dessert which was a platter of fresh fruit.


Later we saw the kitchen where this feast came from. I was astounded at how rudimentary it was. We spent several hours there, hearing their story, getting to know each other, sharing our common faith. One of the most memorable and touching moments was having the youngest of their three boys stand on his seat, with eyes closed and hands raised to God as he confidently and passionately prayed over our table. It’s hard to explain the warmth and welcome that we felt as we visited this family, all in such modest surroundings. And remember, this is not how these folks had lived when they were at home in Iraq. They had more amenities and comforts, this is not how they were accustomed to entertaining people, yet under these circumstances they shined.

Now imagine yourself in this situation. Would we receive strange visitors into our homes under these circumstances? Are we even willing to receive strangers in our comfortable homes? How often do we take for granted our well-equipped kitchens, heating and cooling systems that keep guests comfortable, lovely bathrooms for folks to freshen up in, décor that can warm up the atmosphere, and decent and predictable incomes that provide a comfortable and familiar life? Many of us don’t care to welcome strangers from our own country, let alone strangers from a different culture! Generally speaking, in America, we often do not even have friends and family to our homes all that often. Now remember, this family wasn’t even in their home. They had been displaced, by violence, into a country not their own.


One of the many things I learned on that first trip is that hospitality is extremely important in the Arabic culture. Time spent with people is treasured. People and relationships are treasured. The idea of welcoming strangers is found over and over again in the Old Testament. As believers we are commanded, repeatedly, in the New Testament to practice hospitality. Did you know that the Greek word for hospitality (philoxenia) literally means “love of strangers”? I returned home inspired to be more intentional about practicing hospitality and remembering what it is really all about – the people. I hope this story, and more importantly God’s desire for us to practice hospitality (whether we warmly welcome those known or unknown to us), might inspire you too.