I am at the airport waiting to board my flight that will take me to my next country. It is so crazy to think I am headed into month three, that I am leaving Morocco.
I usually have a moment every time I leave, this moment of, “What am I getting myself in to this time Jesus?” That moment came when we were in this HOT neighborhood, searching for Wifi to let leadership and our families know we made it.
The call to prayer was starting and I thought, “…whoa I have really gotten myself into something Jesus”…I am going to be very honest. I have NO IDEA how to wrap up our six weeks in North Africa so I am going to share a few days and moments that I saw the Lord pursue the lost…..
We met a family of women at a local tea and bread shop. The women were sweet and welcomed us to make bread the following day. We came in to their shop and home not knowing what to expect but I had one of the most fun days there. They were patient and kind to us; they spoke only Arabic and I spoke on English. Mamma took my hands and showed me exactly how to knead the bread and how to fold it over and over. She would laugh when I continued to get it wrong and just take my hands in hers again.
We had tea and cookies over hours with two girls. One shared pictures of her son in her home town and the other showed pictures of her in her wedding gown. She taught me to make tea and the other taught me tanjine. They covered our hands in henna and gave us gifts of scarves and bracelets. We even got to share in the exciting news of a new baby on the way.
The first time I met her, she was panicked. She had been removed from school for a misunderstanding and was unsure what to do. She had a plan to find a job and then tell her grandma the news but was worried when she would be able to find a job. We prayed for her and I am not sure I will ever forget her face as we prayed…I also don’t think I will forget her voice and the way she told me “nooo” when I mispronounced another Arabic word. She brought us cookies and took us on a picnic. Through her I got to see how He truly loves us in the depth of our sin and in the darkness of being lost.
She had a table full of homemade breads and cakes. Honey, coffee, butter, and jam filled every bowl around us. She laughed and told us stories of the nights she has held church in her house in secret. She brought out her Bible written in her native tongue. (Berber Arabic) and told us the day she received it. It truly was beautiful and moved me to tears. I myself had never seen the word of God written in anything but my own language. Ya’ll, its beautiful in every language and symbol. It is alive and active.
At debrief they asked us to raise our hand if we could say we weren’t the same person we were two months ago…Africa never leaves me the same
