God is so creative, so personal! How on earth does He know our minds? How did he know my wish to go to the Middle East to write when I hadn’t told him? After months of not hearing from my publishing house, I received an email last week asking me if I still wanted to write for them. I said maybe, and asked if they had any ideas.
He gave me a list of possible topics . Second to the last:
Syrian refugees § Would have to travel to the middle east
I got the email while at work. I nearly spontaneously combusted in the little critical care snack area. My excitement was so evident that a bystander asked what was going on.
I shared the email.
1. Chris looked at me as if I had gone suddenly insane and he should stuff a Xanax down my throat.
Most people responded in a similar fashion with variations reflecting their personalities.
2. Christine threatened to email my family herself and told me I should not go.
3. Dr. Halloran said, “You are not going to Syria right now.” He added that there are plenty of safer places than Syria to find Syrian refugees….an excellent point.
When I got off work, I emailed my family and talked to my dad.
4. Scott, my older brother, replied to the email:
Thanks for the update. Definitely glad for the heads up before we see it in the news!
5. Dad said that he had just told someone that any journalist who goes to Syria now basically deserves to be beheaded for being so unwise (those weren’t his exact words)… never anticipating that his daughter was next in line.
When I told my dad that I’m sure they would send me to a safe place, he said, “I’m sure that’s what all the other journalists thought.” I hadn’t thought of that before.
I told him that’s the kind of death I want to die…not now necessarily, and not foolishly, but dying for a worthy cause.
He pointed out (why are dads so wise?) that dying was probably the best part of their kidnapping experience.
6. The lady at the passport office who let me smile for my picture said, “There’s probably a travel warning right now,” with an ominous chuckle.
7. My aunt and uncle suggested that I take a picture before I go.
“You’d rather have a picture of me with my head on?”
Yes, they said.
And God? His latest response to me has to do with my stressing over my upstairs lodger, and the little girls knocking on my door, and the speech I feel too tired to prepare, and the coffee I spilled all over my kitchen table. He gently reminded me that all of life is a struggle, and can be handled poorly or well, without Him or with Him. Going to Syria to chronicle stories of suffering is no more of a ministry than living well on Brady Street.
So while I wait to see if I in fact will go to the Middle East, He teasingly suggested that I live well in the meantime.
God is so good!
He is with us wherever we are, and wherever we go.
