CHAPTER THREE: “This is what love looks like.”
“I wasn’t expecting it to be that emotional!” said Niki as we walked away from what would be our last time at our friend “Dijah’s” house (even as I write this, I get a knot in my throat). Moments earlier, we formed a circle in front of her house, locking hands with 3 generations of women representing her family. Her mom, who makes bread, was sobbing to my right, and her mom to the right of her. Dijah had been crying way before we even said “good bye” and both her younger and older sisters were crying as well. I think even the turtle (her youngest sister’s pet, who was also brought to the farewell ceremony) was crying. The Holy Spirit was so thick in that circle that it penetrated all of our hearts in the way only He can, and we had no other option but to cry in awe of His presence. Deep truly called to deep that day. As I began to pray, I thanked God for the whole family and for allowing us to experience such love. When I, per God, said “This is what love looks like,” the tears ran down my face and my voice quivered because it was like He was saying it Himself. There were so many thoughts that flashed through my mind simultaneously … how His love is unfailing even when we don’t deserve it; how this young girl gave us her unconditional love; how her family was so honoring and selfless with us; and how humbling it was because they gave us their best of what “little” they had. The Spirit of God fell like a thick smoke. It was so beautiful. I will carry that moment in time with me for as long as I live and what it represented!
To be completely transparent, it didn’t start that way. When we got to this small beach town in North Africa, after a few God ordained re-direction (see my friends’ posts for more details), we quickly settled in. While shopping on the first day, Tamara and Hannah were invited to dinner to our new friend “Fay’s” house. Then enter Dijah (We aren’t even fully sure of how she found us or who told her where we live). She just knocked on our door and said “Tamara?” when I answered. Then, looking past me, saw Hannah and said “Haannna!!!” I signaled her to please come in. With a huge smile she came right in, and gave Hannah a huge hug and kiss (one on the right and two on the left, as is customary here). I offered her a drink and a yogurt and she followed me into the tiny kitchen. I figured she was ok to go through the fridge, so she quickly made herself at home. Well, 10 hours later, she was still there when I woke up from my nap (I’m exaggerating but it was a long time and she just wouldn’t leave). I was sleep-deprived, so I took the day to catch up on sleep, and I left for a nap. The other girls stayed with her— dancing, singing, and laughing the rest of the day.
Not getting into a bunch of details, I had quite a slew pestilences and ailments, topped off with lack of sleep, so I was running low on energy. Nothing major but for sure frustrating to say the least. That week was hard and amazing all in one.
Perspective slowly started to shift after I finally got some sleep and then went to dinner at our other new friend Fay’s house. It was a very humble house with stray cats running amok in the backyard and under the table when we were eating. The plastic chairs and small coffee table made up the dining table set for royalty. A single free hanging bulb illuminated our dinner that night, which was held under a low hanging fig tree big enough for all of us to sit under. We ate an array of cookies paired perfectly with homemade green tea as an appetizer, followed by fresh lamb kebabs (freshly slaughtered the night before for Eid Al-Adha …google it). The father grilled on a small propane grill right next to the table. Cucumber and tomato salad were part of the many sides. The girls took the night by the horns (pun very much intended) and ministered the gospel as much as possible, and we prayed for the family. The holiday traditions possibly encouraged the invite, but how perfect for us? That night, we got to pray for the food in Jesus’ name, and later we broke out into a worship session with Shela leading us to “What A Beautiful Name It Is.” After a long conversation of the gospel, in which Hannah and Tamara lovingly but boldly explained our beliefs, we ended the night asking if we could bless the home and family for opening their doors to us. They happily allowed us to pray, and Tamara boldly prayed in Jesus‘ name proclaiming Him as King, Savior, and Friend. We were able to communicate well with the family because both Fay and her brother speak English. I loved on the older generations with my little French as much as possible, and used love and appreciation and kiss their hands, as a symbol of respect and honor. The mom couldn’t kiss me enough to show how much she loved us. It was so sweet!
Side note: God has given me a gift of understanding many languages and what people are trying to say. He really transcends language barriers. He is SO faithful!
Back to the story, that night was amazing and the first example of love offered on a gold platter with a side of unconditional honor and respect. Then lunch the next day at Dijah’s house. We danced and sang with the little girls and her pet turtle . We taught them hand motions to her favorite Christian song “Shadowfeet” by Brooke Fraser. Tamara taught the youngest one hand motions to “My God Is So Big So Strong and So Mighty.” Mint tea and cookies, which are a staple we now realized, were happily served and enjoyed. As a mountain of couscous came out, we all Oh-ed and Ah-ed with our jaws on the ground because it looked and smelled so awesome. After the appropriate photo shoot, Dijah, who had previously shared a meal at our house and seen how we prayed, asked us to pray as if to show her Grandma, “Look they pray!” So we did. We prayed in Jesus‘ name and dug right in. In an effort to fit in, one hand at a time, we began digging into the lamb, pumpkin, and delicious mix of raisins and carmelized onions that topped the mountain of deliciousness. We attempted to make “perfect” balls of couscous mix in our hands (like the grandma) and I didn‘t do so bad, actually. I enjoyed looking on as whole hands were licked and driven right back into the mountain of shared food. Poor Hannah got the true experience of sharing food with our hands (she sat next to the grandma) and, oh— the look on her face makes me laugh still.
By the time our 10-day apartment rental in this magical little beach town was over, so many memories had been made. Trips to the beach with both Dijah and Fay were made multiple times (stories within themselves). Dijah delivered bread daily, as she yelled our names outside the window. ”Jolllly, Shellaaa, Haaaana” were the ones she yelled the most. After payment, the routine included a yogurt and a short conversation about the plans we had, and when we where going to hang out. Oh, and how much bread we wanted for tomorrow. She was consistent. We got to enjoy the evening open air market in front of the town mosque. Even though we stuck out like a sore thumbs, we had gotten used to the looks and comments by now. The last two nights felt a little more inclusive because we were with them. It was great! Fay had us over for breakfast and henna, which later turned into more couscous and a Moroccan cake. I got to help bake the cake and got yelled at for washing dishes at her house. I got to pray over Dijah‘s tooth and watch her in amazement as the Holy Spirit healed her, and then she told her grandma. I got to sing with them, braid their hair, love on them, hug them, and kiss all the ladies‘ hands that cooked for us. I got to pray for Fay‘s mom and help Dijah’s mom put the bread in the clay stove. I got to take the girls out to the beach and love on them as much as I could. Tamara and I got to buy a young homeless man some food and pray for him (we walked by him all the time on a busy bridge and I always gave him all the food I had in my pack, but I never found the perfect time to stop and pray with him). The day we left, Tamara and I did stop and pray for him. Praise God! There are so many things I could write on the good, the bad, and the funny things that happened in this magical town, but I’ll leave it for another post!
I do want to leave this post with a happy ending, though. Remember the young girl, Dijah? Well, on the day before we left, on the way back to the beach to watch the sunset, Dijah and sister gave their hearts to the Lord. We had been talking to them about God the whole time and she experienced a miricle of healing in her own body. I wanted to present the opportunity to them before we left. I explained it to them in English, Spanish, and French, and they both said YES eagerly. I prayed that language wasn’t a barrier and that the Lord would raise this amazing little girl to change her town. May she grow up to be the next Deborah, Esther, and Ruth! She has the character for it. I’m sure that with God‘s help, and with one hand tied behind her back, she could change that town, easy. Please keep both of these amazing girls in your prayers!
Walking away that day form that magical town I had a heavy heart because I was leaving such loving people but happy that we where given the opertunity to love and revive love in such a deep way. Close relationships where you say good buy in tears usually take more then 10 days. That was truly what Love Looked Like!
Please know that I’m still fundraising and need $13,000 by September 30th. Thats only about $2,900 left to hit that dead line. Please prayerfully consider partnering with me to keep spreading Gods Love!
I love you all!
Nashiely Aguilar
