It all started with pb&js, peaches, avocados—the beginnings of an outstanding picnic in the park. In the last weeks, we have been intentionally spending time in the same park. Sometimes we go to the park to prayer walk, to exercise, to sit, to worship as a team—and other times to picnic! This afternoon, we baked snickerdoodle cookies to pass out in the park during our picnic.
Immediately upon arriving to the park, our young friend, Sadia, spotted us and came running over. She and her twin are known in the park for their mad henna skills. Over the last couple weeks we have been able to spend a good amount of time with them. We invited her to eat with us and she excitedly hopped into our circle in the grass, joining the pb&j feast.
As our food disappeared, we took out our freshly baked snickerdoodles, or as they quickly were named in the park: “america cookie”. We also broke out some watercolor paints and turned up the volume of the worship music that was playing in the background. Our young henna friends were still sitting with us. And as the air was cooling and the sun began to dip, the park was happily alive—buzzing with children, families, women talking, people praying towards Mecca, men boxing.
It was then that I saw a woman sitting under a tree not too far from us. She was not much older than I and had the most beautiful baby girl in her lap. I felt the Holy Spirit nudge me to talk with her. I grabbed the tin of cookies and started walking toward her.
And then all of a sudden, from behind the rose bushes, two young girls start running towards our picnic circle. I assumed they saw Sadia and Maira. I had met them a few days before when I was chatting with the girls. But then, they changed directions and ran straight toward me, with flowers in hand. We embraced in hugs and kisses and excitedly they each gave me a flower. I received them with a huge smile and in exchange, I presented to each of them an “america cookie” They were all “mercis”. With big smiles and many more hugs, the communion with each other was simply special. In verbal language, I cannot communicate with these young girls. But in my heart, and in theirs, much is being said. I held two pink flowers in my hand and looked down at two of the cutest friends I have ever made. Jasmine and her little sister, Haniya are precious, innocent and beautiful creations of God. After some time, and many cookies indulged, they lead me and a few of my teammates back to the spot that their family was sitting. Their uncle spoke English and was able to translate for us. We had the chance to speak with them and their parents for quite a time. It was precious.
And then, with this young woman on my heart, I walked back to my team’s picnic circle. The water coloring party was in full effect, Sadia and Maira had settled in. Worship music was invading the air and smiles were lighting the faces of everyone. The love was palpable. I looked over to the tree and this woman still sat, snuggling her daughter.
I grabbed the tin of cookies again and walked over to her. I greeted her and was embraced by the warmest smile and heart; I sat down in the grass next to her and offered her a cookie. She accepted it, and gave it to her daughter, who began happily chomping away.
This woman introduced herself as Nisrine; and quickly, I discovered what a beautiful soul she was. Inquisitive, curious and lacking no depth, it was such a joy to speak with her. Nisrine and I shared an encounter that was rare in its depth and connection. In short time, she shared from the heart about her respect and love for her culture, religion (Islam), hometown. But also, as our conversation continued she shared of her restlessness and some of the pain of her life. As a mother with a prestigious industrial engineering job, she has pushed the boundaries of what it means to be a successful woman in this culture. She left her small hometown to come to the city. She has a beautiful daughter. She is devout in her religion. And she finds a restlessness within her.
A bond quickly formed with Nisrine. And as she shared about herself, she inquired about me. I told her of my hometown, my family, my own faith. She was very curious to hear about my role as a woman in the United States, my job as a nurse and especially my faith in Jesus Christ. I got to share parts of my testimony with her and speak about what it is like to have a personal relationship with God. I had the privilege of telling her what it is like to be loved by God. She was receptive and she was curiously listening.
Just before parting ways from each other Nisrine said something I won’t forget. She said, “Yes, indeed, the world is full of beauty and pain. I hope my heart is always restless for more of the beauty of truth” And for Nisrine that is exactly what I pray for—restlessness until her soul finds rest in its Creator.
