Today

Today was a full day, a hard day, a good day. It was the quintessential day in South Asia.

I have been overwhelmed by the slaughter of innocent animals. I watched the blood pour in the streets. I heard the sounds of goats, cows, and camels in the throes of death. For what? Some would say it is the annual sacrifice – a remembrance of God’s faithfulness to Abraham and a sacrifice to cover sin. Others say that this is not a sacrifice for forgiveness – it is simply to remember how much Abraham loved God – that he would be willing to give up the life of his only child. Regardless. I stood on the top of a balcony with the women as they recited words from the Holy book. The children ran among us… they were so excited about watching the qurbanis. It is a game. They dance in the blood. Men on the street move from house to house observing each sacrifice.
What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the Blood of Jesus….

I sat in the parlor at an old Sindhi home and shared my heart. I told the story of Isa, His compassion, His love for us, His sacrifice that covers me. There were many questions. Five women, talking of faith and hope and the beauty and holiness of God. We shared the importance of obedience… that we do not follow God out of duty, but out of love. I told His story. In three years, I have never had the opportunity to share so freely of the story of my Father. And yet, here, on the last day I have in this country, the questions led to answers. May these women know the Truth. May they see His face and know His tender mercy. May they choose for themselves the way that is right. May that know Hope in a world that has none.

A Punjabi grandmother told me that I was a true Pakistani – that she could see it in my heart. This compliment – not so quickly given – I will cherish forever.

I stood in the driveway with the chokidar’s wife, and she asked to come with us to the airport. She and her husband and daughter will see me off. The baby will fret at not seeing you everyday. She will cry. She will worry. She will want to go to America with you. She is not alone. I am always so happy when you are here. I always want to see you coming. I cannot place value on these words. The love that I share with these people – they are my family.

And so again, I stand at the crossroad. I choose to step on a plane headed away from Asia, back to the land of my birth. For the time being, it is my field – the place where I am an alien and a stranger in a foreign land. I will lay awake at night dreaming of deserts and faces, of sand dunes and the call to prayer. I am torn between two worlds.
Still, I have heard the voice of my Father singing over me. I have watched His passion for this people. I have seen His faithfulness to see His desire worked out with these small hands. And, tonight, as the missing has already begun, I am content to leave my family in His hands. I have learned that the people of my heart… are also the people of His.