Loved by my King

I just have to share how incredibly loved I feel by the Lord right now.  I sing His praises everyday for how He has redeemed my life, rewritten my most painful stories and authored a new chapter of grace and overflowing love in my life.  There is a season for all things and I have experienced such a long season of tearing down, mourning, and uprooting but now, Now God's grace has ushered me into such a beautiful season of laughter, building up, and dancing before Him. I truly feel like His beautiful, loved, precious daughter. For so long  I felt like a disappointment before God, a failure, worthless.  But God's hand has drawn me out of that pit of destruction and shown me the reality of who He is and the kind of intimate relationship we can have.  It's beautiful to see Him at work in my life and to see how He not only meets my needs but fulfills and exceeds my heart's desires.  I am a blessed daughter of the King!  Blessed doesn't mean all circumstances of life will be easy, painless, etc but it does mean I have all I need in Him to experience victory and joy regardless of the storm raging around me or not. I cannot praise Him enough for saving Him me from ... myself, from hopelessness and from utter lonesomeness without Him.  I love Ecc 3:11 below "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end." I cannot fathom the work of God but all I know is that I want to be in the midst of it, I want to continue to watch Him make beautiful those things that were once ugly and seemingly destroyed, like me. I want to live the adventure of a life committed to Him, up for anything He throws my way - no limits, no boundaries on what I will do, where I will go, who I will love.  1 John 4:18 says "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear.."

 

Ecclesiastes 3:1-4,7-8, 11-14

 ¹ There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: ² a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot ³ a time to kill and a time to heal,  a time to tear down and a time to build, ⁴ a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, ⁷ a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, ⁸ a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. ..¹¹ He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. ¹² I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. ¹³ That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil—this is the gift of God. ¹⁴ I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere him.

 

My worship song right now is "How He Loves Us" by David Crowder band.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TWgeUrD4MHI&NR=1.  Just listen and read the words below. 

 

 

He is jealous for me, Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.

And oh, how He loves us oh
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us all

He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
Oh how He loves.

And we are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If His grace is an ocean, we're all sinking.
And heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss,
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest,
I don't have time to maintain these regrets,
When I think about, the way…

That He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
Oh how He loves.
Yeah, He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
Oh how He loves.

Hope Resides in Relationships

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/8519506.stm

Hopeful about the new ambassador appointment but not pleased with the Republican response:

"But Republicans criticised the nomination as rewarding an enemy. 'With this nomination, our foreign policy again risks sending the message that it is better to be an intractable enemy than a co-operative, loyal US ally,' said the top Republican on the House of Representatives foreign affairs committee, Ileana Ros-Lehtinen."

We have got to drop the term enemy when we talk about Syria, they are not our enemies. We are not at war with Syria. Syria is a vital player in the Middle East peace process and should be treated with respect and value for their position and influence in the region. The collective punishmnet of sanctions on the Syria people b/c of the US's disagreement with some of Syria's politics is ineffective and maintains a devisive and untrustworthy relaitonship between the governments. The appointment of an ambassador does not demonstrate complete agreeement with Syrian policy but it shows respect and value in a relationship between the governments. If the goal is to develop a worldwide political community of co-operative US allies then how would one expect to build that other than to put people in positions to build those relationship where they have been broken in the past? C'mon people! The Republican response is disheartening but thank goodness for those who stand in opposition to this attitude. We must push for peace and work towards saving lives. Hope resides in relationships.

Home

It was late one night last week as I drove the dark quiet streets home.  My heart felt heavy with the weight of reflection both personal reflection in addition to experiential reflection on the Syria trip.  After re-entering my "normal life" back in the US I felt torn, almost divided.  My body was physically in the United States and my mind raced with the list of "to-dos" and a packed schedule of responsibilities and obligations yet my heart, oh my heart was thousands of miles away.  It was back in those ancient streets of damascus; I left it there in the mountains, in the marketplace, in the smiles of the shopkeepers. I didn't feel whole, I didn't feel at home even though I was in the place everyone would technically call my home.  I pulled into the driveway and shifted the car into park. I laid my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes.  My brow showed the tense struggle I felt internally, the old feeling of homelessness was returning. I fought it with all of my best rationale.  Guilt approached as I berated myself for even feeling down and lonesome after such a blessed experience.  I muttered, "Oh God where is my home?" A peace washed over me, the tension left my hands and face, and I pictured myself back in those rugged mountains near Maaloula; standing there, I felt engulfed by the power and might of my Lord in the mountains.  I felt so near Him, so moved by His greatest, beyond words... His soft and soothing voice said "You're home, wherever I am."  I opened my eyes and smiled.    How incredibly true.  I now truly feel at home wherever I feel the presence of the Lord, a place or building or relationship cannot house that, he is omnipresent.

 

So many times over the last five years I have struggled with an ache for my home.  I have missed my family.  I missed the home we shared, the laughter, the stories, and the memories it housed.  I have wanted a place to call mine ever since, yet the contentment I have found knows no address or name it is in the context of a relationship of obedience and faith with my Father that I experience His comfort, His security.  I am at home when I am near Him.  This helped me find contentment in the days following as I continued to adjust back to life here while still missing the people and spiritual places of Syria.  I know He will take me back East but until He directs me there I continue to find my joy and contentment where He has place me right here, right now.  The present is beautiful and full of meaning, opportunity, and growth.  I am home because I am His.

 

in the news

Check out a great article posted by GMU about our trip!

 

http://news.gmu.edu/articles/1654
 

One of my favorite quotes by the Grand Mutfi: "A handful of American dust mixed with a handful of Syrian dust, when mixed together cannot be separated again in order to distinguish between what was American and what was Syrian."  I loved the unity we experienced there with our Syrian brothers and sisters.

 

 

new ambassador, new possibilities

The US has chosen a new ambassador to Syria, we now await the final approval from the Syrian government on his/her acceptance.

http://www.google.com/hostednews/afp/article/ALeqM5hC2ubvYK325InS0B_U-VkzaT2b0w

I pray that this individual will work to improve the US-Syrian relationship. This is huge as we have not had an ambassador in Syria in five years. I hope the US has made a wise choice in their selection. We need to engage with the government and people of Syria and reframe the relationship from one of a relationship with foes to friends.

State-side

So after being back in the states for a couple days I am just now recovering from the jetlag and yet still emotionally overwhelmed from the trip. I sit here in my warm bed with a sleepy puppy looking up at me with eyes questioning why I am still awake. The past two days back home have served as an interesting adjustment back to American culture and into my typical lifestyle and routine. The fast-paced days filled with bustling traffic and a long list of to-do items seem so normal in this world. I dove right back into work and classes (a week behind classes already I might add). Several times throughout the day I find my mind drifting back East, picturing the memories of friendly shopkeepers, warm lemon tea, smiling faces of syrian colleagues, and dusty ancient cobbled roads that seem so terribly inviting and divine in comparison to home.

Story of forgiveness, breaking cycle of violence and healing hearts

A talented translator, Fullbright scholar, and humorous colleague, our new Syrian friend and translator sat before us sharing his story. It was a Tuesday morning in 1979 as he, as a three year old boy, rode next to his father in their Volkswagen through the streets on Damascus headed to kindergarten. A normal morning in every way until they stopped at a red light, when two men armed with machine guns fired 69 bullets at the car, 12 of which hit his father and one hit him. His father recovered with minor injury though three bullets are still lodged in his body. However our dear friend's body was forever changed by that one bullet, which caused spinal injury. He has been wheel-chaired bound since age three.

At that time the Muslim Brotherhood was involved in a movement attacking intellectuals, professionals, military and government officials in Syria. Our friend's father was not in fact an official; he worked as a translator as his son does now. The family can only assume that the wrong car was targeted in the attacked. They do not know what has happened to the men.

Growing up, his father kept saying that they must forgive the people who did this and not wish ill on them or their children. Our friend has never held hatred toward the people who attacked him, he does not suffer nightmares or dreams of them. There is an Arabic saying that says, "a charcoal hurts where it is". Every September the family celebrates the day of the attack with a cake. They celebrate the fact that they are still alive and live on. My friend said there have been times he has heard his story on the radio and yet the names and dates are different, the story of his attack is not unique. Yet his story does not end with his physical repercussions, but it is the emotional affects that are so beautiful and noteworthy to share.