Missions has been in our lives ever since Dad and I met each other. We were both called to missionary work, prepared ourselves in home service for two years, went on to language study in France for a year....and finally landed in Burkina Faso, where we remained for the major part of our lives "mishing"! Even after we retired. we again answered the call twice to work in two other West African countries, one year in each place, because we still felt impelled to GO when called.
Missions is certainly changing in the church context here in the United States. It has been happening gradually, but now seems to be speeding up. And it is called short term missions. It requires no lifetime dedication, no special preparation, no learning a language - just a willingness to go and explore what God is doing in another part of the world. And of course having the cash to pay for the trip! Being a longtime member of the Partnership board in our home church, I was encouraged to think of Dad and me going on a missions trip to Kurdistan. It seemed an impossibility financially for us, But John helped with our plane tickets and Cheryl and Darrell entertained us royally for free, all of which made it possible for us to have this great experience!
We were a group of five from our church. The other lady had never been on an overseas trip of any kind, so it was fun to participate in her reactions to everything. At first she was afraid to go, but I assured her I would not leave her, but stick right with her the whole way, and we became fast friends. Her husband had already been to the Middle East, and John Harvey had also travelled extensively in the world, so the five of us composed the team for this short term missions trip.
The plane trips were LONG - through London and then to Istabul and finally to Sulimaniya. I had it easy on the trip. I was still not over my results of brain surgery and so could not walk any long distances. So at every stop I had a wheelchair waiting for me, which was wonderful. Our stopover in Istanbul was our most eventful one!
The Turkish man who brought my wheelchair and pushed me was an energetic young fellow. It was late at night by the time we got there, and we had to get our baggage and head for the lovely hotel where we were booked. My wheelchair man took it upon himself to take us wherever we had to go - he had us at the baggage claim in a short time, while our fellow travellers were making the long trek on foot. This young fellow practically ran with my wheelchair, chattering all the way in something that occasionally sounded like English - but was mostly pronounced with a heavy Turkish accent. He got our bags in short order and proceeded to get us out on the outside sidewalk. Dad finally was able to make him understand that we were with a group and needed to wait inside for them. Great! He parked me haphazardly on the curb and raced back inside with Dad, leaving me there among tons of policemen with wicked looking guns and lots of chattering people, with nary a word of English spoken by anyone! I knew I was back in the Middle East - not just because of the language, but for the fact that everyone was smoking smelly Turkish cigarettes. And thus I sat in the cold, inhaling all that smelly smoke, and hoping Dad would remember where they had left me!
It was a good expereice for me, as I have always travelled to places where I could make myself understood in either French or English. In this situation I could appreciate people who experience this feeling whenever they travel outside the USA. Finally the team and our new Turkish friend found me again and we were taken by bus to the lovely hotel at about midnight. The night was short, the breakfast in the morning fantabulous, and then back to the airport for our final destination - Kurdistan. This was a smaller plane and not a long trip.
Phenicie's met us at the airport, and we whizzed through customs, etc., thanks to their police friends. Soon we were off to their home in the beautiful white mini-bus which the mission had just purchased. During the time we were there, we kept that mini-bus moving! Dad and I stayed with Phenicies and the others were lodged in the nearby English center. It was a great time for all of us, and we appreciated all that Cheryl and Darrell had put into making this missions trip a memorable one!
The day after our arrival we made a trip north to the city where the terrible gas-ings and bombings had taken place by Saddam Hussein. In order to understand Kurdistan it was necessary for us to see this part of their sad history. There is a huge memorial of the gas-ing of the Kurdish people near the edge of the city, and an Aliance pastor (who was a victim in those bombings as a young boy and had artificial legs as he had lost his in the tragedy) met us and became our tour guide for the morning. The horrors of that terrible event were graphically displayed in this beautifull planned and care for Center. Our hearts ached for the terrible things these courageous people had had to go through. And they have re-built their town, a resilient people.
On the road to this town, we passed the small road into the mountains where the three Americans had disappeared when they crossed into Iran by mistake - the highway ran right along the border of Iran. The Middle East is so full of history - from years ago and from more recent times. And we loved the Kurdish and Iraqi people we met, such friendly, outgoing people. We could have stayed right there and worked with them.
During our stay there we had a full program: teaching English at the local center, going on a Friday picnic into the hills around Sulimaniya, and spending a week at the newly built medical center, on the border of southern Iraq. There we spent a week teaching Iraqi Alliance pastors. Dad, John Harvey and I each taught a regular class for their cirriculun, about twenty students. We all lived in the same building and had a wonderful time of learning, fellowship and fun. Culminating in a day long ceremony of dedication of this new health center, with government officials present and a huge meal together after the morning pfficial dedication.
So many memories of those weeks in Kurdistan come to mind even now......
- Participating in teaching English at the Center, getting to know personally some of the students, most of them Muslims, but many with lots of questions. One young man asked me, what is the difference between Mohammed and Jesus? Wow!
- Going on the traditional Friday picnic in the hills with the English students. Joining a Kurdish family there and praying for the mother who had physical problems. Dancing with the Kurds in the fields there. Cooking meat over an open fire and sitting around on blankets eating and playing games. What a relaxing day!
- Interacting with the theological students -most of them already pastors. Many have suffered much in the war. One young man told us with tears his story of being captured by the enemy and delivered at the last minute from being killed. These people have suffered much.
- Attending the official ceremonies of the medical center, with hundred of guests and government reps - followed by a huge feast for about five hundre people, the food all catered from a hotel in town.
- Joining the believers and many Muslim English students, in a large hotel room in Sulimaniya for the international service.
- Getting to know the American staff working there with the Phenicie's, and continuing to pray for them in their ministries.
- Having people interested in my white hair! In one English class the group had learned the word "paint" and the question was asked "Does Cheryl's mother paint her hair?" Then they all asked to feel my hair! When we were at the medical center, the place was guarded by Kurdish soldiers, complete with uniforms and machine guns! One evening I was helping Cheryl serve food to a group of these young soldiers sitting at a table, and they kept pointing to my hair....and then asked if they could feel it. So here I was walking around a table full of uniformed soldiers, complete with their machine guns in their laps while they ate - and each one feeling my hair!
And so we had our short term missions trip. It enriched our lives, gave us a new appreciation for the wonderful people of the Middle East, and made us better prayer supporters of the courageous people of that region who often suffer much when they trust Christ as Saviour.
No comments:
Post a Comment