A Strange Way To Save the World

Christmas simply comes alive in Cairo.

Under the tent off of Port Said Street, Bethlehem comes to Maadi, Egypt. From the camels, donkey, sheep, shepherds, angels, wisemen, and the manger scene, the Maadi Christmas Pageant brings to life one of the most wonderful stories ever told.

After previous years of being the fourth magi and Gabriel, I had the privilege this season of filling the shoes of Joseph, the earthly surrogate father of Jesus Christ. A role packed with the emotions of confusion, anger, forgiveness, understanding, joy, and love. As the play draws to a close, I had the privilege of sharing Joseph's heart in song. The lyrics of the chorus went,

"Why me? I'm just a simple man of trade.

Why Him? With all the rulers in the world.

Why here? Inside this stable filled with hay.

Why her? She is just an ordinary girl.

Now I'm not one, to second guess, what angels have to say, but this is such a strange way to save the world!"

Sometimes I wonder. Did Joseph recognize the magnitude of this child? As Mary's midwife, while he delivered Jesus, did he consider that this Child had come to deliver him? As Joseph taught Jesus the tools of his trade, did he consider the One he taught created life itself? As Joseph searched the temple looking for Jesus, did he recognize this One he looked to find came to earth to find Him?

Yes, sometimes I wonder.

Jesus did NOT choose to enter a clean environment. From being born to a single-mother, to calling an animal's manger in Bethlehem his first home, to his baby clothes being the rags of death, to being born a citizen of an occupied territory, to becoming a refugee shortly after birth, God's Son chose to come into this world in a state of poverty and social rejection. Brings life to the verse, "You know the generous grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty he could make you rich." (2 Corinthians 8:9)

Even today, Jesus doesn't choose to come into a sanitary environment. Instead, he wants to come into my life. Your life. Our messed up lives. Our lives with all their shortcomings, failures, and problems. He wants to call it "home". He implicitly said, "I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance." (Luke 5:32) He didn't come to clean stuff up. He came to save us from our desperate situation. But he doesn't intrude. He comes invited.

A strange way to save the world?

The idea that God chose to become man. "Veiled in flesh the Godhead see, hail the incarnate deity" (from Hark the Herald Angels Sing) Chose to "dwell among us." (John 1:14) To feel our pain. To embrace our heartaches. To understand our losses. To experience our reality. To share in our humanity.

The statement that "God so loved the world that He GAVE His only Son that WHOEVER believes on Him will not perish but have everlasting life" (John 3:16) isn't a simple mathematical equation. It's a story of love, mystery, sacrifice, and redemption. Requires faith. Not mere human logic. Faith that believes the story of Christmas.

"Unto you is born this day in the city of David a SAVIOR!" (Luke 2:11)

If our greatest need had been information, God would have sent us an educator. If our greatest need had been technology, God would have sent us a scientist. If our greatest need had been money, God would have sent us an economist. If our greatest need had been pleasure, God would have sent us an entertainer.

But our greatest need was forgiveness, so God sent us a Savior.

(Taken from God Knew Our Greatest Need)

So my friend, as you celebrate your Christmas holiday, remember God's gift to you. With that, I wish you a Merry Christmas!

"Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!" (2 Corinthians 9:15)

My Christmas Ornament

"It's the most wonderful time of the year!"

With Kenny G serenading my room with angelic Christmas melodies, I wiped the cobwebs and dust off the oddly shaped rectangular box above my armoire. Pulling out my Christmas tree and setting it up, I began meticulously decorating it with care. As I hung my few ornaments, one grabbed my attention.

The ornament is simple. A basic oval-shaped olive-wood carving of Mary and Joseph entering Bethlehem. Ordinary. Nonetheless, this decoration brought back vivid memories. Memories of turmoil, unrest, conflict, hatred, yet hope.

I purchased this piece in the land of Palestine earlier this year while working on a project in the West Bank. Finding this ornament in Bethlehem, I thought it an appropriate addition to my Christmas experience. A question, however, lingers in my mind.

When the angels announced Jesus' birth to the shepherds, they proclaimed, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." (Luke 2:14) Yet sometimes I wonder, "Where is that peace? That goodwill?"

Visiting the middle of a conflict zone brings life into clear reality. The place of my accommodations in the West Bank felt like a low-security prison with the numerous checkpoints, armed soldiers on the rooftops, barred doors & windows, vacant streets, and barbed wire lining the pathways.

Yet, it is at such times that you realize the harsh reality of this world's wickedness. When you are playing football on the streets with young boys to an audience of armed militants, or holding a six-day old newborn whose house/tent has just been obliterated for political reasons, or when cradling the head of a sobbing child on your chest who is traumatized by life's pain, you wonder. Peace on earth?

What could those angel's have meant? Even Jesus declared, "Do not think that I came to bring peace on earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword." (Matthew 10:34) Contradictory? Maybe at a glance, but here we have a beautiful promise. Christ didn't come to make this world His "kingdom." He openly stated, "My kingdom is not of this world." (John 18:36) Rather, He declared, "These things I have spoken to you that IN ME you may have peace. In the world, you WILL have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)

On my way back to Cairo, I stopped in Jerusalem at the Garden Tomb for a few moments of solitude and reflection. As I sat there quietly, a verse struck me profoundly. "Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but He is risen." (Luke 24:5b-6a) How often do we look for the solution in the wrong place; in our government, in society, in people? The solution for hope, peace, love, or acceptance.

True peace is not found in the absence of conflict, but rather, in the person of Jesus. Not in our vain and fruitless pursuits of trade agreements, peace treaties, and ceasefire. Rather, in the very person of CHRISTmas. "Peace on earth." Christ on earth! God's purpose for our lives is not that we live in the absence of conflict, but that we find Him through life's joys and difficulties. He joined our world two thousand years ago to seek us. In finding Him, we find peace. For both now and forever.

As the lights flicker magically from my three-foot Christmas tree and Kenny G's heavenly music continues to fill the air, I smile. Once again, Christmas is upon us. That, "thrill of hope The weary world rejoices, For yonder breaks A new and glorious morn. Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels' voices! O night divine, O night when Christ was born."

Desert Silence

Trudging into our campsite, nestled between the resplendent limestone formations of the White Desert of Egypt, we set up camp preparing for our first night under the stars. Having left Cairo and the signs of civilization far behind, we braced ourselves for three days of sand, desert foxes, and a breathtaking sunsets.

As we gathered around the evening campfire to drink tea, our Bedouin guide, Ashraf, shared with us, “Water cleanses the body, but the desert cleanses the soul.” The depth of his statement resonated, but only a few days removed from society could clarify its implications.

Trekking with an amazing 8th grade class from Cairo American College, my days were filled with wonderful memories of crazy desert games (International Chaos and Desert Ball), dune jumping, odd toilet experiences, and wild camping memories. One evening, after a dinner of grilled chicken and Bedouin bread (cooked over the open coals of our campfire), we decided to experiment with silence. Far from the bustle of Cairo, the honking of horns, the cloud of smog, the cries of children, and the chaos of life, we shut up.

And listened. And listened.

What I heard that night was not solely the light wind sweeping over the sand after a day of burning heat, nor the munching of hay coming from the camels.

In the silence...God.

I felt the presence of a Creator who is in control of a world that, at times, seems chaotic and spinning wildly out of control. A God who watches over the desert foxes, sand mice, and acacia trees. In the middle of an arid land, He provides for their sustenance. A God who paints majestic sunset backdrops and forms the rolling dune for the few visitors who dare venture into the desolation of the desert. And in that SILENCE...

I listened.

It's no wonder that God chooses to reveal himself in the "gentle whisper" as He shared with Elijah. (I Kings 19:12) With the Psalmist, it resonates, "Be still and know that I am God!" (Psalm 46:10) The term, "be still" comes from the Hebrew, RAPHAH. Literally, "to let drop." The verb "to know" (YADA) could be translated, "realize."

"Drop everything and realize that I am God."

He is God.

In our flurry of non-stop activity and noise, how often do we lose sight this truth? How often does our busyness blind us from the reality of His promises? Do we stop and remember He is in control? That "the Lord is on his heavenly throne." (Psalm 11:4)

The Tuareg's (a Berber Nomadic people of the Sahara) have a proverb, "You have the watch; we have the time." If our desire to hear God's voice, then we must take the time to be still. To drop everything. To listen. In that silence, you will hear.

He has not lost control of this world, the desert, or your life. If he provides moisture for desert plant life and food for the desert fox, how much more will He care for us? (Matthew 6) We have a God of love who wants to communicate with us...will we listen?

Remember, it's in the imperative. "Be still!"

Shhhhh!

Listen.

Into the Fog

As I trudged higher and higher through the snow of Mount Ngauruhoe (narrow-hoe-ee) the predicament I was in became apparent. Either continue on into the blinding fog with no sense of direction accompanied by impending dangers, or submit to the fact that I had scaled a great portion of this imposing mountain and the time had come to call it a day.

Ngauruhoe, an active stratovolcano on the North Island in New Zealand, is commonly known for being the model of Mount Doom in Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings movie trilogy.

Due to inclement weather, my expedition of climbing Ngauruhoe, highlighting the backdrop of Tongariro National Park, had experienced a near cancellation. Upon arriving at my hostel I discovered that the Tonguriro Crossing had been canceled due to the extreme weather this region had been experiencing. All climbs had been cancelled but my schedule allowed for no flexibility. Thus, after seeking the advice of a local climbing outfitting joint, I decided to proceed with the climb alone.

Heading out at seven, the North Island still covered in the throes of dawn, I picked up a latte along with a Sausage, Egg, and Cheese McMuffin from a nearby McDonalds and headed towards Tongariro National Park…a ninety-minute drive from my hostel. Prior to venturing out, I stopped at an outfitting outlet to pick up a few essential elements (climbing shoes, gloves, proper headgear, and some maps). After discussing the conditions with these blokes, we arranged if I wasn’t back by 1800h, they would come looking for me.

Arriving at the park, the landscape stole my breath. The expansive beauty captured my heart and passion, and there, rising up on the horizon, completely covered in clouds and fog was the target... Ngauruhoe. Despite not seeing the mountain due to the cover, I knew it was there and intended to conquer it.

The adventure was magnificent.

As I trekked through Tongariro, I saw not one soul. Not one. Completely alone in a vast expanse of mountains, prairies, and mountain streams. As far as the eye could see. there were no explorers, park rangers, or signs of human life. Only the sound of the birds, brooks, waterfalls, and the wind whipping across the open fields and the howling weather on the mountain. Tranquility and peace.

Just me and God.

So we walked and talked as closest of friends. There was absolute joy, laughing and tears. A precious time together.

Reaching the South Crater, I began the pursuit of Ngauruhoe's summit. The fog was blinding and intense. I relied on the post markers planted every ten to twenty meters to keep me on track. Knowing the danger of the mountain, its glaciers and sudden deathly drop-offs, I trudged cautiously, step by step. It wasn't too long, however, before the blinding snow and fog masked my eyes from identifying the next guidepost. I was stuck with a choice. Wait for the fog to clear, or call it a climb.

That day, God taught me a lesson.

How often in life is it hard to see where we are going (just as I couldn't see Ngauruhoe that day due to fog, but I knew it was there by faith). We want a blueprint for our lives. We wonder why bad things happen to good people, or why cancer, broken hearts, and hurt exist. Yet perhaps God has a plan far bigger than our earthly eyes can see. Rather than "why," perhaps our question should be, "what" (would you have me learn)?

We are called to go from one guidepost to the next. By faith. Faith not in ourselves, but in the God who can see through the fog of life and knows exactly what He is doing, even when we can't see the mountain. Faith is that "substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." (Hebrews 11:1)

We don't have to understand everything. It's ok. As long as we know the One leading. In the words of Oswald Chambers, "Faith never knows where it is being led, but it loves and knows the One who is leading."

God's Word clearly tells us in Hebrews 11:6, "Without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him." If we all saw God for who He fully is, we would believe, but that belief would be based on sight, not faith. God desires a relationship with us based on love. A love which believes Him for who He says He is and lives on that premise.

And as we journey, let us not forget that His Word (the Holy Bible) is "a lamp to our feet and a light to our path." (Psalm 110:105) Simply a lamp. A small lantern providing enough light to show us the next divot in the road. Not a floodlight for strategic planning. Light enough to keep us walking, yet not an abundance to keep us trusting.

One guidepost at a time.

Simple obedience.

And when the fog gets too thick to even see the next step, just wait. Soon in the fog, you'll hear those comforting words of Jesus, "Follow Me!"

Spaghetti, Meat Sauce, and a little Garlic Bread

Spaghetti with meat sauce and some garlic bread.

Just another dinner...so I thought. That is, until the garlic bread.

Being Senegalese/American, I am used to living in a land of malfunctioning appliances, loss of power and water, and the general lack of modern conveniences...thus, I figured that included gas stoves. Perhaps, a lack of judgment.

The spaghetti dinner was turning out great...or so our guests declared. Apparently the welcoming scent of the meat sauce had wafted down into the general foyer as our dinner invitees arrived...

But, the garlic bread still needed to be toasted.

Having had previous experience lighting our oven, (thanks to blueberry muffins) I attempted to start the ancient piece of debris...no success. After a couple attempts, my housemate, having never used this particular appliance before, suggested giving it a try...gladly, I handed the matches to him.

What happened next is still a blur...As Jeremy reached in to ignite the burner, (and I stood closely over his shoulder) it happened.

Ka-BOOM!!

An EXPLOSION similar to a small bomb...the force of the explosion sent Jeremy (my housemate) and I flying backward, shattered windows across our house, blew the entire oven/stove onto its front and the next thing I remember was being on the kitchen counter and my friend crying out from the kitchen floor which was now covered in boiling water...

But this story is not about an oven, garlic bread, or drama...rather, about the grace of God.

Though the trauma of the explosion, the burns inflicted, along with the pizza boxes and computer paper covering our pane-less windows remind us of this night, the divine protection of God stands above all else. From our gas tank (directly next to the stove) not igniting, to the matches laying ON the oven door not bursting into flames, to our clothes not even getting singed, we experienced a miracle. A blast of God's mercy!

As I stirred the sauce and my friend prepared the garlic bread, did we consider the proximity of death? The face of eternity? We feel invincible...as if God owes us a certain number of years. The Word of God, however, clearly points out, "It is appointed to man once to die and then the judgment." (Hebrews 9:27)

Regardless of our faith, (or lack thereof) we acknowledge death...but are we living for something which lasts beyond the grave or is our hope in this life alone? Paul shared, "If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men." (I Corinthians 15:19)

I'm thankful God spared my life (and that of Jeremy), but I'm even more thankful to know that on the day my short life ends, I have a living hope beyond the grave!

Still, another thought lies on my mind...do I LIVE daily in light of eternity? We are clearly told in II Corinthians 4:18, "...we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

May our love transcend preferences, differences, frustrations, divisions, cultures, nationalities, ignorance, impatience, and the like so that we may focus on living for something far greater than what we see. That our love would display a far greater hope!

Thus, as my alarm clock begins it's cheery BEEP-BEEP BEEP-BEEP at 0415h, I smile...another day! To live, to laugh, to love! Another day to invest into the invisible.

Who knows, I may have to make garlic bread!

The Answer to Your Prayers

I'll never forget those two faces.

If the attribute of joy was personified, then Merna and Jacqueline embodied it. Their beautiful faces radiated with a supernatural joy. As identical twins, telling them apart was nearly impossible, but their precious smile undeniably further entwined their likeness.

Nestled in the back alley of Manshayet Nasr (known to foreigners as "Garbage City") at a home run by nuns [started by Mother Teresa], I found myself "mother" to six newborns (2-6 months old)...five girls, one boy. These were my children. Bottles, feeding, burping, pacifiers, changing diapers, playing, and putting babies to sleep became regular elements of life...these kids had my heart.

One day in early April, upon entering the children's home, my heart was ripped apart to find two of my kids gone...Jacqueline and Merna. (On a positive note, I was told they were returned to their biological parents) I distinctly remember going to their blatantly empty cribs, kneeling down beside them on the cold tiles, and with tears in my eyes, I prayed.

My prayer was simple...that God would take care of them, and that He would bring someone into their life who would love them and share the love of Jesus with them.

Little did I know the impact of such a prayer...

Shortly after returning to the US of A in May of '04, my university studies resumed...so with 9992 km separating me from my adopted-family, my dorm room wall became a panorama of memories. And my prayers continued...as before.

Two years later, degree in hand, I boarded Lufthansa Airlines bound for a new life in Beirut...except God had other plans. War, logistical issues, and divine guidance landed me in Cairo...again. With David, I came to the realization, "I trust in You, O Lord. I say, 'You are my God!' My times are in Your hand." (Psalm 31:13-14)

As time went by, I returned to the streets of Manshayet Nasr...passing by a group of children, a ten year old [Lobna], called out, "Parlez vous francais?" Being a Senegalese and a native-French speaker, I turned...instantly, a friendship was born. After getting to know the family and discovering the kids study in French, I became the tutor for their kids, their cousins, and their cousin's cousins.

Months later, as we sat around the family's rickety broken plastic table conjugating verbs in the past tense [surrounded by rubbish along with chickens randomly flying over our head---yes, chickens CAN fly], two little girls stepped into my world...again. Barefoot, covered in dirt from head to toe, clothes slightly tattered, their hair crusty and mangled from playing in the street and their faces bore no sign of joy, but something in their eyes looked ever so familiar. Looking up, I asked Lobna who these two adorable twins were...she replied, "My sisters, Jacqueline and Merna." Though their names are commonplace, other identifying features were given and I quickly realized that in a city of over 20 million residents, God had reunited me with two of my girls!

And then it hit me...my prayer. Today, I see these girls frequently, pour love into them, and share the stories of my friend, Jesus. As kindergartners, they love school [especially gymnastics] and life...their laughter is back and my life is enriched because of them.

But take a step back in history, when Jesus and His disciples were swamped with thousands of people and no food...the disciples quickly managed a solution and suggested Jesus send the multitudes away. Christ's answer baffled their logic. "They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat." (Matthew 14:16) We know the rest of the story...one boy, five loaves, two "small" [John 6:9] fish...and Jesus. When we pray, are we willing to be the answer to our prayer? For those suffering around the world...are we willing to give up our abundance so others may have the bare minimum? For the lonely...are we willing to sacrifice our time to comfort? We pray like Asaph, "Defend the poor and fatherless; do justice to the afflicted and needy, deliver the poor and needy; Free them from the hand of the wicked." (Psalm 82:3-4) But are we willing to be the vessel God uses?

SO, just a little warning...be careful what you pray.

You may be the answer to your own prayer!

No RESERVES, No RETREATS...No REGRETS

Buried in the heart of Cairo in a forgotten cemetery lies the grave of a man many have forgotten. The high walls of this ancient cemetery, the barred gate, and the overgrown brush bring back memories of The Secret Garden.

The significance, however, is not found in what lies within these stone walls. Rather, the power of this story lies in what these walls (and grave) could not hold.

To access the grave, we had to climb over tombs, rubble, shrubbery, and trash. After clearing the grave from its assorted debris and branches, along with scrubbing off the years of dust and bird poop accumulation, the words were revealed.

William Whiting Borden.

Born in 1887 to one of the richest families in the United States and heir to millions, Borden was given the high school graduation gift of traveling the globe. As William traveled, he saw the immense hurt around the world and recognized the need to invest his life into that which would last for eternity. In a letter home to mom and dad, Borden wrote, "I'm going to give my life to prepare for the mission field." And that he did.

Friends tried to discourage him claiming that by making this decision, he was "throwing himself away." In response, he journaled in the front of his Bible, "No reserves."

After earning degrees from Yale and Princeton while actively engaging in campus and community life, (started the Yale Hope Mission, ministered to drunks downtown, and engaged over 70% of Yale's student body in small group Bible studies) Borden realized the time had come to follow Christ to the "ends of the earth." Turning down high-paying job offers and a life of relative ease, Borden added two more words under the previous entry. His words, "No retreats."

Refusing to be side-tracked by the things of time, Borden set sail for China in December of 1912 stopping in Egypt to study Arabic. Upon arriving in Cairo, Borden hit the books, but shortly thereafter, William contracted spinal meningitis. Within a month, on April 9, 1913 at the age of 25, Borden was face to face with the Jesus he loved and served.

Borden's passing was carried in nearly every major US newspaper. One woman wrote, "Borden not only gave (away) his wealth, but himself, in a way so joyous and natural that it (seemed) a privilege rather than a sacrifice."

Was his life a waste? Was this an untimely death? Not in God's economy. Rather, "unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain." (John 12:24) Is a long life the rubric of success, or faithfulness? Wealth, or love? Self-pursuits, or sacrifice?

Prior to closing his eyes in death, Borden etched two final words in the front of his Bible. Beneath "No reserves" and "No retreats" were written, "No regrets." For Borden, "To live [was] Christ, and to die [was] gain." (Philippians 1:21)

His tombstone is epic, but this portion encapsulates his life and passion. "A Man in Christ, he arose and forsook all and followed Him, kindly affectioned with brotherly love, fervent in spirit serving the Lord, rejoicing in hope patient in tribulation, instant in prayer, communicating to the necessity of saints, In honour preferring others. Apart from faith in Christ there is no explanation for such a life."

Oswald Chambers, buried a mere 100 meters from Borden, declared, “Faith is deliberate confidence in the character of God whose ways you may not understand at the time.” There are many things I don't understand about Borden's life and death, but what I do know is this...he lived a life which counted for eternity. He lived, not for this world nor for himself, but for eternity and the God he loved.

Will I write, "No regrets?"