A FAMILY Love Story

While I’m on love stories, I have another one. The second weekend we were home, it was EVENT CENTRAL around here. Wow, we were planning, baking and making like nobodies bidness.

What happens when you marry a man who has seven siblings? There are parties ALL the time. You have to have a calendar to remember the birthdays of TWENTY nieces and nephews. It means you can never have an ‘intimate family gathering’, any event is always a semi-controlled mob scene. Sortof like in Jordan, I bet. Waajib, bas waajib helweh. Waajib zaki, bardo. Shu il food, ikteer food, kull il food hawalay buttenni (and but-ni, kamaan).

 Niece Mona had her high school/home school grad party (I’m still eating those home-made cap-n-scroll shaped mints). Sis-in-law Jane is the youngest of six kids, so this event pulled in 60 people alone who were blood relatives. This is the event where a friend was concerned about a Jordanian mom-in-law screeching AAAYEEEEEE AAAHH at the wedding. Jane made six different kinds of COOKIES just for dessert. I won’t even list what the buffet contained, it will send me to the freezer searchingfor the MooseTracks ice cream. (And since I am now officially dieting, I’m not gonna do the MooseTracks Freezer dive) 

Nephew Daniel had an 8th grade/Confirmation party. Bro-in-law Andreas likewise had at least five siblings. This party was a little quieter, as Aunt Maria runs a very tight ship (and all food is very healthy,  organic.  No soda. :O) and the fact that the siblings with lots of kids live in other states. BUT, polite Eagle-Scout-to-be nephew David provided some wild entertainment in getting a water-balloon (organic balloons, too) launcher set up for the kounouz kuzins. They weren’t paying attention where the balloons were coming down, heh-heh, and a wild-eyed neighbor came over livid about a near miss with his head. Oops.   

But as fun as those were, the best event was the remarriage of bro-in-law Peter and his wife Traci. Twelve years ago they were married in a civil ceremony (this doesn’t go over well in Catholic families, I learned then) and had a fairly rocky beginning. Very , very different people these two. Two babies back-to-back put them in re-act rather than pro-act mode. His work as a policeman was stressful. She was young. Things just got worse, and the winter I came home with the kids for the war they decided to seperate. 

Peter decided he could confide in me, since I was an ‘outsider’; and someone who could understand his pain from my own experience. I tried to counsel him well, encourage him, and point him to God again. He made that choice, began to go to our church, and really grew as a believer. His heart was broken, but his spirit was being strengthened. I still believe God brought us home for them, just to be able to invest in him at a crucial time (And for me to see how very very bad the American public school system is, from experience).

He was changing, Traci was in other ways. He was a tough-guy cop, but found his heart underneath the callouses. She had some things she needed to do for her own growth, they both had things to change; like we all do. She saw the changes in him, and was changing herself as she took steps toward growth. Aunt Jane had an open home to the girls as Peter and Traci worked through consequences. Peter was amazing me with his spiritual maturity, and with it he was drawing Traci home again.   

Two years ago, they were working with our pastor in counseling to lay a new foundation for marriage. Skeeter was astounded at the changes in his ‘little’ brother, and the gifts and talents emerging. It changed the way their relationship had always been, there was a new love and respect between them.  We actually sat together as families at church, Lil Kinz and their daughters would hold hands and skip to Sunday School together. Made me wanna cry.

When their mom died, Skeeter told me Peter mentioned there was going to be a reconfirming of their marriage vows in March. We were SO excited for them, but sad to miss it. Thanks to delays in selling houses and the purchase of their new family HOME, the ceremony was delayed until we got there. 

It was a simple and beautiful ceremony. The girls were flower-girl/ring bearers. The message, given by the man who had counseled them and probably knows them better than any of us, just allowed us to be a part of a sweet and intimate re-affirmation of the vows they had made in a civil court more than a decade ago. This time, they made them as a promise to the God who had given them the strength to salvage what was broken and work a miracle through their sacrificial obedience to His will.

They are a new couple, as much as new individual creations. The peace, joy and contentment was evident that day and remains so. The girls are so happy, God answered prayers lifted without much hope for an outcome like this!

Peter and Traci, we stand in awe of God’s power to resurrect that which was dead. We are amazed that you both choose a much harder path in reconciliation, and took it slowly enough to make sure a new foundation was laid. You two didn’t just choose to tolerate each other for the ’sake of the children’, but chose to give those sweet little ladies the best gift of all: a mommy and daddy who love and respect each other deeply. Most of all, we are humbled by how you chose to obey God’s word and pursue it when you both were dying inside, and allowed Him to bring beauty from ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.

You will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified (Isaiah 61). Grow tall and spread wide. We love you!

I LOVE A Love Story!!

WAHOO!! I just got off the phone with an old workmate, a gal who made my then-job in human resources a tremendous joy. We would spend our lunch hour praying and talking, and fasting together. Anne is a God-fearer/lover, intelligent, witty, drop-dead gorgeous with the perfect shape. Why she was not snapped up at 25 can only be the restraint of Almighty God for a Better Plan. She was the #2 on my list of match-making list forEVER. Yesterday, when I got her email, I got to drop her from that list!!!

We lost track of one another for six years. When she turned 40, Anne said she finally embraced that her reality was singleness. She intentionally fought the mental habit of anticipating: “Today may be the day I meet HIM”. She chronicled the event in her journal, a landmark day of submission to a severe mercy of God. Four years ago, a friend asked her if she could give Anne’s number to a man from her church who was interested in meeting a woman to marry, not just play with. In spite of the bad rep, in my circle of Christian friends we just don’t ‘date’. It’s more like intentional courtship, with no under-clavicle physical involvement until The Day.

Anne figured, ‘why not’?', and was pleased that the old familiar ‘what if?’ didn’t fill her thoughts. He called her, and after five hours of talking, she had a first time ever certainty of “Oh my sweet Lord, he is the man”. They skipped the chit-chat about favorite foods and went right into the core issues of what marriage would look like. He had already heard enough about her to be sure.

Dave lost his wife to a brain aneurysm a week after she gave birth to their fourth child.

The same day Anne gave up marriage and embraced the reality of her singleness.

Oh, shivers.

My friend Anne went from being Miss Successful Business City Woman to Mrs. Ecstatic Rural Home Schooling Mother of four mommy-less children. She could be another Pioneer Woman. Heh-heh, her hubby is enjoying her unique energy.

I cried when I heard her little girl call her mommy. God is good, all the time,

Jesus Camp and Pentecostalism (2)

The two women who undertook this project seemed to know the Pentecostalism is a wing of Evangelicalism, but didn’t seem to have a problem with giving the impression that the practices seen at the definitely Pentecostal Christ Triumphal Church are typical to all Evangelicals. Not so. Pentecostals identify themselves as such by name in order to differentiate themselves from Evangelicals. I tried looking up statistics for what percentage of Evangelicals are Pentecostal, and failed to find the research to back-up the figure of 12.3%.

I’m going to explain a bit about it so you can know where Christ Triumphal Church is coming from, and how they are not mainstream Evangelicals as the producers of Jesus Camp would want you to conclude. Each church is different, I have never been to one like like this.

Pentecostals hold to all the basic tenants of Christianity, but believe that after coming to faith in Christ,  that there is a second baptism, called Baptism of the Holy Spirit, where the Holy Spirit indwells a believer in a special way and sometimes proof of this baptism will be persons ability to speak in tongues (either a known human language to share the gospel [rare but real: I know three people who have unknowingly spoken in a language they did not know in order to share the gospel] or a ‘prayer language’ which is what was shown in the Jesus Camp. Some Pentecostals believe that those who don’t have this second experience are missing an integral element of their faith, or worse, that the person is not a true believer. They believe that all the miracles done by Jesus and the disciples should be a regular part of a believers life today. There is another, less ‘wild’ version, called “Charismatics”, who believe tongues are for today but are not the only proof of the Holy Spirit’s work of sanctification. Like most Evangelicals, it is evidence of the ‘fruit of the spirit’ that proves faith: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control. 

Many Evangelicals follow the dispensational line of thinking, that the miracles of Jesus time were a dispensation of grace that were for that time only (Dispensationalism is where some roots of hyper-Zionism, “Evangelical-style”, are found. I will not be touching that one in this series). Some Evangelicals believe that anyone who speaks in tongues is deceived.   

Just so you now where I am coming from, I found Jesus Christ as a 20 year old, alcohol and drug-abusing immoral pagan. It was a Charismatic Christian who loved me enough to see my value through my junk. I had been to Baptist and Presbyterian churches before, and been looked down on for my lifestyle choices (much like the Muslim doctor who figured telling me how bad I was would draw me to repentance).

God did give me the gift of tongues, and of healing. Before that, someone once tried to teach me how to speak in tongues (lol, she said: “Just say “Hallelujah” over and over”. What God did was so much more than that). Neither gift is a huge part of my spiritual journey, both gifts bring blessing but Jesus is my all in all. Some of my Pentecostal friends chide me for not speaking in tongues enough. I’d rather pray with understanding.  SO, that confessed, do I seem that weird to you? I don’t blog in tongues, obviously. I do lay hands on people regularly for healing; but no matter who is involved or how gifted, God doesn’t always chose to heal. He does it, not the hands. The beggars that used to come to my door for money for medicine now come for healing prayer with their sick kids. More often now, healing prayer is for hearts and minds rather than bodies.

So…”Jesus Camp” is not about the common practices of Evangelicalism, but Pentecostalism. Pentecostalism is a strong, growing, vibrant wing of the Evangelical church brotherhood. It is the fastest growing denomination of Christianity outside the US. 

You would NEVER see what happened at the Christ Triumphal kid’s camp going on in an Evangelical kid’s camp. I will write more about what you would see later.

Also, what was NOT wrong, about what was said and done at Christ Triumphal, and why.   

Jesus Camp & Dirty Laundry, Post One

OK, here it comes! I even asked hubby to man the phone and feed the kids so I could finally get going without interruptions. That will probablylast about five minutes, so  I will plunge in.

As MommaBean and Southern Muslimah mentioned, we were all a little reticent to watch this ‘documentary’ on dangerous Evangelicals. We three know about those Mississippi snake handlers and hyper ‘faith’ healers who refuse their children medical treatment. All three of us have had experiences with Christians who fall way far short of Jesus’ commands to ‘love your neighbor as yourself’, and have sort-of mixed up that command with the one about ‘not coveting your neighbor’s wife’. Who likes to have their cultural and religious excesses exposed by those who don’t share them? I, like many Muslims I know, get a leeeetle bit tired of having to explain the same things about my faith over and over again, especially when the inquirer seems bent on believing what they want in spite of my answers. But I will always continue to answer, hopefully with respect and kindness, as I really don’t want anyone else interpreting and defining what it is I believe in.

I have a theory about dirty laundry and God. If you let it go too long, and don’t clean up the way His word explains too, He will allow others to discover the smell and your bad housekeeping will be revealed by someone who doesn’t have your taste in clothes. You may try to sit on the hamper to hide it and deny what is truly there, but the nose knows. The best course of action is to humbly admit there it is indeed there, and  get busy doing something about it. With huge American washing machines, it take a full week before I get a full load of whites. Sometimes the aroma of those ripe boy-socks knocks me out and I am ready to waste water doing a small load.  

Sometimes, there are clean clothers in the dryer and hanging in the laundry room. Those attracted by bad smells may look in may say “See! Those t-shirts are dirty too. Throw them in the wash”. In reality, they aren’t dirty, they are just different colors, gray, navy, red. But because the stinky stuff permeates, the on-lookers believe their noses rather than what is plain to the mistress of the laundry room. If the on-looker doesn’t like those colors, or the designs on the t-shirts, he or she is even more likely to to overlook the truth in the laundresses statements and smugly tell others that all the clothes in that laundry room stink. 

That said, I made my popcorn, took out my notebook and got ready to eat some serious crow in having to apologize for the sins and excesses of those I call brethren in Christ.   

I ended up just eating popcorn.

Jesus Camp was made by people who had their own idea what they wanted to say and agenda they wanted to promote. It was by no means a documentary, it was fear-mongering. It was so bland they had to throw in a radio personality with an attitude problem. They couldn’t even define their terms properly. This film was about one very small Pentecostal church, not mainstream evangelicalism.

 

 

 

 

Barbie City & Garage Sales

Last time when we visited Aunt Jane and Uncle Luke, Lil Kinz was astonished to enter the family room and see not just a Barbie house, but a Barbie CITY. Five different houses, every room furnished, a hundred Barbies in every form of attire, formal to casual. Pools, MacDonalds, ice cream and candy stores, school rooms, vet clinics, six different cars, even a plane and train car! It was every four year old’s dream come true.

Eyes wide and slightly accusing, she turned to me and said, “Mommy, you never told me Barbie has STUFF!”.  Under the watchful supervision of the Keeper of Barbie City, cousin Majda, my daughter was allowed to in share her Barbie wealth in small doses. If Lil Kinz was REALLY lucky, her other two local little girl cousins were allowed to come over and play together. Little girl heaven, it was, until they began to fight over the coveted hot pink chair. When they amost came to blows and throwing treasured Barbie bits, they would have to put it away. Barbie City is no place for uncontrolled tempers. Big Cousin Majda assured her that when Lil Kinz was a big responsible six year old, she could play with it as much as she wanted. 

Lil Kinz has been looking forward to it for two years, and was heart broken when she bounded into the family room to discover NO Barbies. Anywhere. Her lower lip began to quiver and her eyes to fill with tears. Aunt Jane came to the rescue, and showed her the basement (our American family summer domain) with the five houses and SIX HUGE tubs of Barbie ’stuff’ just waiting for her to unpack and play.

Lil Kinz now also understands how much things cost. She came to me one day and asked “Mommy, are Uncle Luke and Aunt Jane REALLY rich? NO one I know in Jordan has this much Barbie stuff.”  I then  reminded her about what Aunt Jane and I do early every Thursday and Friday morning: garage sale going. Aunt Jane has collected all the Barbie stuff from garage sales for next to nothing.

Sadly, this is a result of American little girl allegience switching from Barbie to Bratz (our home is a Bratz-free zone, Lil Kinz knows if she gets one for a present, it will not linger in our abode).  Commercials won in swaying attention from what could be a fairly wholesome toy (if mom uses careful wardrobe planning) to prepubescent wanna-be boy-toys.

Our very first time out garage sale-ing this summer, Lil Kinz prayed she would find a beautiful Barbie all her own; one she could bring back to Jordan. How good is God: our very first stop, she found nearly new Barbies who are the two characters from the Barbie Prince and the Pauper movie. For only $.25!  She was amazed! She hugged them tightly to her chest as she produced two quarters, which she knows would only buy two gum balls retail.

In the car, she further discovered the Barbies both sing the song from the movie, “You’re Just Like Me”. She learned that if you start the one after the other, they do form a beautiful duet! I had to wipe a thankful tear from my eye as I saw her little girl joy. It won’t last much longer, this special time in life where singing Barbies are magical. God knew my little girl’s desire, and the Almighty reached down from eternity  to bless a little one of His billion-strong creation with a frivolous thing that caused her heart to praise Him. The sweetness of that gesture, so like God in His Omniscience, filled my heart with thankful praise as well.

(Now all we need is to get Butterbean over to share the fun. MommaBean, we need to synchronise travels better in the future, and put Illinois on your destination map. You can move in our basement with us!)

 

Cat Scratch Fever & Consequences

Got a kitty who goes out? Get her vaccinated, as there is a growing epidemic of deadly cat fever in the country. A vet once told me every few years such a virus decimates the local feral cat population, and it is has been awhile. Although I am not fond of feral cats, I am less fond of mice. FYI.

Aha…the truth comes out. It seems History Buff was warned by the PE teacher twice to get off said goal post. His injury then falls under the category of direct consequences for disobeying authority, which in our house, is a biggee sin. Authorities in his life: parents, teachers, coaches, police are people we teach our kids to obey without question initially unless they are asked to partake in what we deem to be wrong behavior. They are allowed to appeal to said authority if they have additional information which might change the consequences,  and are allowed to ask why if the tone of the question is information seeking rather than insolence. We are there to protect him from the full force of consequences he may not yet have the life experience to see. Sometimes, tho, the kid just wants to have fun, and he is pushing the envelope.

History Buff seems to be  entering adolescence, disrespecting mom, a teacher and now his baseball coach at different times.  He has been questioning his baseball coach’s decisions (she reads here, hey A!) and was pulled out of a game because of his ‘attitude’.  It took me about two hours of tearful discussion before he would relent and own his bad. We had communion at church last week, and I told him he needed to apologize to his coach personally before he took communion. He was mortified to get up in front of everyone (I’m not sure I could do it, then everyone wonders whats it all about!) so I told him he could go afterward. He did, and they are good now.

Then he breaks his leg due to disobedience, and can’t play his favorite sport.

Last night, as we were praying before bed, he said: “Mom, did God break my leg and make me miss baseball season because He is mad at me?” .  Oh, the theological questions that come up at bed time. I said: “Honey, God didn’t break your leg, and He doesn’t do revenge with disobedient children. He loves you and forgives you. BUT, He allows consequences to be a teacher if you dont’ listen. He puts authority figures in your life to protect you from the full impact of foolish decisions. You chose to move out from underneath that protection, and you will have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Or, sometimes, other people’s wrong actions. Can you trust God do do what is right in your life?”. He agreed he could, and he could trust me even when I ruin his fun for safety’s sake. And his coach, too.

I should be thankful he entered this stage at almost 11, where Spikekid was fully in it by 9. Oh, the mercy of God…may I learn about the consequences of my own actions in what I teach my kids.

Hubby’s home. Hallelujah/Sub7anallah!! All is good, I have my head back on. And, I am enjoying 370 grams of Lindt Swiss chocolate, slowly. Yum

Providentially Ordained Moments, Pre-Easter

I was starting to post about an amazing Easter Celebration, but realized it has just been an amazing week with which today’s Easter festivities were a culmination of joy. God’s hand has been upon us this week in a special way.

1) First, Abu Kounouz did have cancer in that tumor that was removed, but it was a superficial basal cell carcinoma and was caught early. All because we watched a movie which had Karposi’s Sarcoma as a theme and reminded hubby he should get that sore checked out. (Side note, but I must admit my error of judgement with the Dr’s stitching: the nasty stitches were removed, there is no bad scar. Sorry, Doc!)

2) I had a wonderful time meeting a bunch of ex-pat ladies at Um Omar’s to meet her mother. Lovely group of mover/shakers, some bloggers, some commenters, some ‘lurkers’ (I see you, M!), the food was delicious (shu, the biggest mound of guacamole I have ever seen, from PALI avocados!) and of course, my fav MommaBean who also brought HER mother.

3) Later that evening, our church youth group had a going-away potluck for several college students who had spent a ‘gap’ year in Jordan and had volunteered to help our young people grow spiritually. We had had a youth pastor for two years, but there had not been a suitable replacement. Our older teens decided to run it themselves, (with some parental investment) organizing VERY fun bi-monthly large group gatherings, and small group bible studies during the other weeks. The did an EXCELLENT job! I listened in on the one Spikekid attends, and was astounded by the maturity, leadership and practicality of teaching exhibited by the older teens.

The youth group is half the size of the church, and I believe their fire and commitment is bringing a form of spiritual revival to us all. We in the church are loving one another better, being more involved and more fully invested in one another’s lives. Listening to the kids lead worship and see the power point of the highlights of their year brought tears to my eyes. It seemed Easter began than night as we all saw how God had brought these college kids in such unique ways, and how they were touched by the investment they made in our kids.(oh yea, and the food was ‘church-potluck-at-it’s best’; I think one could measure spiritual revival by what kind of food the participants bring: there was food made from US-stash ingredients that took some time to prepare. Generosity flowed!)

4) The new car hadn’t been driving well, it seemed like it needed some alignment/brake work (hhmmm, a little too fast over those speed bumps perhaps Kinzi?). On the way to baseball (7:45am, mind you) a serious banging noise started while flying down airport road, and hubby discovered a piece of tail pipe missing. He then slowed down a bit and stayed to the right lane. Good thing, as not ten minutes later one the rear tires blew and shredded, and he was able to pull over without a problem. Had we been going fast, it may not have gone so well for a van packed with people. The man behind us pulled over and helped hubby change the tire, so we got to enjoy Jordanian hospitality in one of it’s best manifestations without mansaf! And not five minutes after that, a church family on the way to the ball field saw us, and promptly took the coach and kids to their game right on time.

5) After one of the baseball games, I was talking to a mother and some of her extended family I hadn’t met before. Just chatting, she asked me what I do here. When I mentioned the course for abuse victims, I noticed they all blanched. She leaned in and said “Could you spare some time to talk to us about this? We just discovered our family has been affected by this horror and we don’t know what to do”. I knew immediately God had brought me there just for those woman. They were so desperate for help they trusted a stranger they knew for ten minutes to help navigate a very difficult and delicate life tragedy. We spent a half hour talking, and had put together an applicable plan for the victim, the abuser and the family. I cried afterward, at the great love of God to allow that ‘chance’ meeting just when it was needed.

6) I had been way too busy, and my US-stash too barren to contemplate a real event Easter egg hunt for the kids. Then MommaBean came up with a plan that would be fun AND promised to be a huge return on little investment. I also found a mini-stash of suitable ‘hunt-worthy’ treats, and had just enough time post-baseball to power-color eggs and get the rest all ready. It was a delightful time for all the kids, and us adults too. Um MommaBean & Um El 3atal both provided my kids with some ‘grandma’ words and kindness. Thank you, Momma Bean, El 3atal, MimiBean, TetaBean and Helper Bean!!

7) After preparing the Traveling Pants for another journey, the rest of us (plus Gaza Girl :D) went to church for our evening Easter service. Pastor Rick gave us a dramatic presentation of the last earthly days of Christ, and the resurrection story, from the perspective of the Apostle Peter. From his confident outbursts, his denial of Christ, and finally that beach-side conversation with the Lord where he received His calling to ‘feed My lambs” it was a moving way to remind us all again the power of what we would celebrate the next morning. It kept my mind filled as I stayed up to midnight making cinnamon rolls to take to the sunrise service the next morning.

to be continued…

Interfaith Dialogue at the Ball Game: A Model

Baseball season is great fun. In spite of Amman being SO small, there are some ladies I only see during baseball season. If your kids don’t go to the same school, it’s hard to maintain friendships the rest of the year apart from Eid/holiday phone calls. So, us seasonal-baseball-buds talk and laugh a lot during these ten weeks to make up for the off-season.

One such friend is “Alia”. We met when her oldest was on hubby’s first T-Ball team, whoa, years ago. One of those rare friendships where the moms get along, the dads like each other, and the boys play well. She is one of those amazing Jordanian women who raised her young boys (yea, another 3 boy mom) while caring for her home while getting her degree, and lived to tell about it. She and her hubby spent most of their lives in the US, but wanted to come back so their kids knew Jordan as more than a summer holiday destination.

She had several other baseball mom friends, including a very funny American lady who I am acquainted with as well. This woman had older boys, who Alia joked around with a lot, and has left Jordan. As Alia and I were getting caught up during a practice, she got very serious and looked in my eyes and said “Kinzi, I need to ask you a question”. She proceeded to tell me that the other woman’s son had sent her an email after he had been in college a few months that had really surprised her. The jist of it was, he didn’t understand how she could believe the tenants of Islam, and he was a little, um, disrespectful in the way he presented his questions. He also told her what he believed and why. (I choked a little bit, and wondered where this was going and what my response to her was going to be!)

She had been surprised and a little offended initially. After thinking about a response to him, she said he realized she had probably never talked to him about her faith and he had probably ran into some Muslims that surprised and offended him in their approach. She also knew he respected her and that was why he came to her with his honest questions, even if his manner was off-putting. She researched his questions, and understood how he could have them, and took time to answer them. Sh also knew that his way of sharing his faith with her was not tit-for-tatting, but that if he believed what he did about his faith, it was a love offering from him out of his concern for her eternity.

Alia asked me how I thought she handled it. I told I thought she did a beautiful job, and I wished there were more people like her. She said “Sub7an Allah for our friendships. You know, the basic tenants of Christianity are for us heresy; and for you, the basic tenants of Islam are heresy. You would be overjoyed if I became a Christian, I would be overjoyed if you became a Muslim. We have too much honesty between us to pretend that we believe the same thing, or that all paths lead to God, or that either of us should compromise what we believe in order to be friends. I see God in your lives, you see God in mine, and we can enjoy our friendship without blasting each other about our differences”.

I say “Sub7an Allah’ with Alia. I think that she and I accomplished more to promote interfaith dialogue, mutual respect and love than any of the big conferences held between scholars, leaders of faiths and countries. Maybe they should put baseball on the agenda.

Dozan Wa Awtar Easter Concert

Wednesday and Thursday, April 16 & 17 at 8pm at the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ Church. I think tickets are still available 10JD.

This is the one I have been waiting for, featuring violinist Anar Ibrahimov and the Dozan Awtar Choir, under the direction of Shireen Abu Khadar. It will also be the last major public performance of the National Conservatory of Music’s local protegee, violinist Lauren Manning, before she leaves for college. Her talent and perseverance have resulted in a full-tuition scholarship at a prestigious musical college (I’m not sure that is the proper vocabulary, I am only an amateur in this realm :D).

I have SO been looking forward to this classical experience of worship, to help prepare my heart for holy week. After hearing Lauren practice (well, over the phone in the background, anyway), and listening to her mother’s description of the whole group practicing (thrilling, spine-tingling, tear-flowing beauty) it promises to be an event that causes the spirit to soar. I will have a hard time sitting, I am sure.

I Heart Mona Eltahawy

I first read Mona’s writing at Natasha’s blog, then rediscovered her at the Sudanese Thinker. I just love how this woman thinks, how she calls it what it is, how she articulates tough topics and has never (that I have seen) resorted to the slash and burn contempt tactics that shut down dialogue for good. Here is her latest post, about Iraqi Christians.

Between Mona, HM Queen Rania and some of the American Muslims ladies I read and have now met (Umm Zain, Umm Farouq, Umm Omar & Umm oops, inseet, Bama Bedouin) I am beginning to think that it is going to be the strong but feminine voice of Muslim women that correct wrong perceptions of their faith, AND correct those Muslims who are reinforcing those perceptions.

They remind me of of the biblical account of Abigail, whose husband made some deadly choices. She, with winsome humility, spoke great wisdom to David and saved her family’s lives.

You go, girls, I’ll be cheering for you.