Two nights ago I was woken up by the ‘call to prayer’ around 4am. I have always loved the Arabic language and listening to the Salat gives me a strange sense of calm.
This time was different.
Fear overcame me. The prayer sounded dark and demonic. I felt this heavy weight come over me. Immediately I started praying and saying ‘Jesus’ over and over, and eventually fell asleep.
Then today the girls of my team were invited to a mosque for prayer with Muslim women from the community, and while a week ago I would have been ecstatic about going to a mosque, today fear from hearing the prayer crept in. I did not want to experience that again.
Perfect love casts out fear.
When the time came, we put on our hijabs and walked just around the corner to the mosque. All of the sweet ladies there were giddy with excitement that these foreign, white women were joining them. They could not concentrate on the prayers because they just wanted to look at us and our strange noses. (Our noses are a lot bigger and pointier than theirs.) All was well. I didn’t feel any weight or heaviness, except I noticed one woman stood out to me but did not know why.
Then it was her turn to read. I turned to Andrea and Katie and told them I felt strange. They put their hands on me and prayed silently, but nothing changed. I was overcome with sadness. I started crying and could not control it. I could not understand what she was saying, but for some reason it felt as if it grieved my spirit; as if whatever she was reading, deep down I did not agree with. I started praying silently to myself, “Father take this away! Get this off of me!”
Perfect love casts out fear.
Then she stopped reading. And the overwhelming feeling stopped.
Islam seems to be defined by an orphan spirit. A spirit not of sonship, but of servanthood. A spirit that says, “Do these things and you will get to Heaven.” A spirit of a father holding you at arm’s length until you have lived perfectly to his standards. A spirit of praying in a language you yourself do not even understand because that is the only language your god hears. This spirit reigns strongly in this country, and it is unlike anything I have experienced before. I feel as though I have been sheltered all my life from it and now, all of a sudden here it is lurking over me, creating fear.
But, perfect love casts out fear.
No matter where I am, no matter what I am doing, no matter what spiritual forces are around me, it is well with my soul. I am learning that He is always with me. Always loving me. Always at the ready to cast out my fear.
Thanks, Father. Thanks for always being there. Thanks for caring so intimately for me. Thanks for showing yourself to me in the middle of a land that has turned from you.
It is well with my soul.
