I have been a stranger before. No, I haven’t been kicked out of my homeland or fled it because I and my loved ones were in danger. Please hear me. I have always been welcomed home. And that to me, is one of the biggest blessings I have been given.
But I have been to markets where no one around me speaks my native tongue. Been to churches where the choir is singing words I don’t understand and I shuffle through all the pages in my Hymnal looking for at least one word I somewhat recognize. I’ve been lost in a sea of billboards that have strange cursive and logos on them. Even the road signs on the side looked as though they were written by Aliens. I have felt as though I was some puppet in a reality show, with an audience waiting in silence to see what move I would make next.
I have been over 6,000 miles away from home and have felt every single one of them.
However, where I was, I was welcomed. Not with embraces, inside jokes and a five course meal. But I was given food from their meager gardens, water for my laundry and a roof over my head. I was treated like a human being, not a number to be gained by the taxing office or government for assistance.
They took me in and fed me when I was a stranger. They gave me and my roommate a bed, their bed, and a room all to ourselves. They might have stumbled over broken English (perhaps to make me feel at home) but they washed our clothes using up their precious water supply without even a hesitation. I have to wonder… would I act the same?
You see this family didn’t know my name until they asked. They didn’t know my family’s last name (which is extremely important in their culture, as it’s what makes up someone’s identity), what my father did for a living, or if I had a bomb waiting to greet them good morning waiting in my suitcase. They knew nothing about me and still they took me.
Instantly one of the daughters grabbed my hand and wanted to read me a story. Cinderella, in her native tongue. Her instant trust for me still convicts and captivates my heart today. Her instant choice to love me and let me in to her little heart left me undone. Her love made all nervousness and fear evaporate out of the room. She gave life to the words “perfect love casts out fear”.
Before my roommate and I left they told us their door would always been open to us if we came back through the country. And the thing is, we knew they meant it. And another thing, they were middle eastern.
*Writer’s note: It’s when our hearts are full of fear and worry that makes us look within instead of looking up into the eyes of another. I write this to challenge you to drop your fear and pick up love. With both hands. And when you do, don’t let it go. I write to tell you about how I was treated over there and to challenge myself to keep this perspective in all the days to come. I am working on instead of praying for safety and security, that I pray for boldness and for empathy. I pray I’m more loving to those without a home. For the son of man gave up his home, to give me one.
