With a tin of popcorn in hand, we were each warmly embraced with a hug and kisses on the roadside. As my teammates and I piled into our new friend’s car, we could have never anticipated the afternoon that was in store. As we darted and dodged through the North African roads that separate the apartment God has blessed us with and our friend’s house, we excitedly listened as she described her morning of cooking. Our friend, we’ll use the name Fatima, had invited us to her home for a traditional meal.
Just six days previously, my teammate Joelle and I met Fatima in the local grocery store. In the last days, we’ve had multiple opportunities to spend quality time with her and her children—visiting a mosque, going to a bakery, inviting them over for a meal and games, meeting a the local cafe.
As we drove into a part of town not yet discovered, we passed by new markets, new mosques and new apartment complexes. And pulling into a quaint neighborhood, Fatima parked her car. We followed her as she unlocked a yellow door, opening to a beautiful courtyard with flowering trees, tortiousses and a house cat. Fatima’s young children were busy playing when we arrived at her home. Fatima’s spirit excuded the courtyard exquisitely— the warmth of her spirit shining like the North African sun.
Upon walking into her beautiful home, Fatima excitedly sat the five of us down at a beautifully embellished wood table and scurried off the kitchen to finish preparing the food with her aunt. And then, a few moments later, a huge plate of couscous emerged from the kitchen. Along with Fatima was her aunt. For the purposes of this story, we will call her Haniya. As the savory smells of goat, roasted vegetables, spices—this mountain of traditional couscous infatuated the air and filled our noses, smiles and astonishment spread across our faces. We each received a spoon to dig into this communal feast. Fatima, her daughter and Haniya joined us in the effort. As we began to dig in, our conversation consisting of English, phrases of French, phrases of Arabic and hand gestures was a beautiful dance that left us all laughing. The warmth in the room was palpable; the joy in each of our spirits was apparent.
As the mountain of food disappeared and as we thought we couldn’t take one more bite, Fatima and Haniya brought out two larges dishes of fruit for dessert. Large slices of melon, plump grapes and juicy nectarines. And again, gathered around Fatima’s beautiful wooden table, community was dynamic and the spirit of the room was alive.
As dishes were brought to the kitchen, we settled again on two beautiful blue couches in the kitchen. As we sipped on strong Arabic coffee and tea, more rich conversation enveloped. After some time, Fatima took out her nail polish and we began painting one another’s nails. Meanwhile, Haniya, who quite the cook, began preparing a traditional vanilla cake over the stovetop. Just when we thought our stomachs couln’t consume another bite, a piece (or three) of triangular vanilla cake was placed in front of each of us, inviting us to smother it in honey.
As afternoon slipped away and it quickly became evening, coffee and tea time was engulfed by an impending spa in the kitchen. We were eight ladies lost in the beauty of the moment. Nails were being painted, eyebrows were being threaded, popcorn was being eaten, children rollerblading around and mesmerized by our attempts on their rubix cube.
Just before getting my eyebrows done by Haniya, Fatima turned and excitedly proclaimed to Landry and I, “You should try on my dresses!” Earlier in the week, we had gone to the local market and Fatima helped us pick out our very own traditional dresses. Excitedly, Fatima flew upstairs to her bedroom and returned with a large box of dresses. This box included many significant dresses, including her wedding dress, dresses for all the religious holidays and many dresses that were specifically tailored just for her. One by one, she selected a dress for us to try on. Fatima allowed me to try on a beautiful green piece she wore to her cousin’s wedding. And as we came downstairs, fashioning her own dress, she quickly embraced us in delight and affirmation.
After this time of adult dress-up was over, myself and a few of my teammates stood in Fatima’s living room basking in the dresses we had just packed back away. Fatima had shown us many of the dresses she wears from Islamic holidays. As Landry, Joelle and I sat, Fatima continued to share with us about her practices and beliefs. And as we sat together, listening to her speak of her religion, of her tradiations, my heart quickened.
As we were listening to Fatima, the Holy Spirit laid a question on my heart for Fatima. And, in a moment of her pondering, a window opened and I said, “Fatima, I enjoy learning about your life and values. Would you like to learn more about what is means for us to be a Christians?”
And then, Landry, Joelle and I launched into this beautiful conversation with Fatima about what it means in our hearts to be Christ followers. We had the opportunity to share in expressing to Fatima about the personal, all encompassing love of our God that is available to us at all times. We had the opportunity to share our relationships to prayer with Fatima and of the way that God sees, hears and listens to us personally—our praises, gratitude, requests and cries. We also had the opportunity to excitedly share our favorite “Christian holiday” with Fatima. We shared with Fatima that Easter was our favorite because it celebrates Jesus’ resurrection and the victory of the cross. We had an open door to scratch the surface of many big ideas. As we listened intently to our friend Fatima as she shared about Islam, she listened with curiousity, with questions and with respect for the truth of what we believe, which is Jesus.
It has been nearly a week since we’ve arrived in North Africa. God is moving and teaching so much. As I celebrate and thank God for this friendship with Fatima and her family, I pray God continues to guide our team and protect, pursue and engage with Fatima, her husband, aunt and children.
Quickly, my heart has fallen in love with these women. I have much to learn about love, friendship and hospitality from Fatima and Haniya. As I watch Fatima nurture and love her children, she does so with such purity and warmth. In friendship she is inviting and loving. As we continue to spend time with Fatima, I thank God that He has gone before us. I thank Him for these precious moments and these beautiful new friends. Couscous, fruit, cake, coffee, eyebrows and dresses—community will bring Kingdom.
