As I stated before, Turkey was never on my “list” of places to see. To be honest, I imagined it to be similar to what we encountered in Egypt—the only place I have ever been to visit that I can unequivocally say I have no desire to ever return. Ever. Period. (Lisa, the pyramids are amazing, it was just the rest ...). I expected to be on edge and not feel safe. I expected begging and poverty to be prevalent. Yes, the poverty was there—but not in a way that was hard to see. The people had an incredible dignity, even in their need. I can’t really explain it, but it was a place that hurt my heart but did not make me uncomfortable or tired.
If you know much about the major religion of the area, and the time of year that we chose to visit, you will know that we were there in the middle of a month long time of prayer, fasting (and then feasting). [Forgive me for not being explicit, I am aware of web searches on those words—if you can’t figure out what I am talking about, email me.] I was concerned what it would be like vacationing there during this time. I expected to be confronted with the fast and the religion. I expected people to be unavailable or inconvenienced. I expected closures in food-related businesses. I expected to see people observing the rituals. I was wrong. Except for the nightly *call* at sunset that the fast was ending and the *call* to evening prayers, I would never have known there was a religious belief present at all. I never witnessed any one local person acknowledge the calls. I never witnessed a reaction of any type. I saw locals in cafes during the day—whether they were drinking water or just talking, I do not know but they were there. I saw an occasional head covering on a woman. But the only reactions to the calls from the m**que was from my girls announcing, “now it’s time to pray.” In many ways I was relieved—the holiday was easy and without issue. But in other ways, it made me sad. This is supposedly a sacred time, and there was no evidence of it.
That in itself led me to reflect on how the outside world sees me celebrate sacred times. In the lead-up to Christmas do they see me reflecting on my Savior or frantically shopping and cooking. Is Holy Week a time of reflecting and preparing my heart for Easter, or is it just another week before a church service, perhaps with a new dress? What about any given Sunday morning? Would anyone notice the sacred? Or is it business as usual? It is a wake-up call for me, a reminder that the world is watching and I should be reflecting what Christ has done! On Sunday morning as we leave for church, we are one of a handful of people in our neighbourhood heading out. But there are people out walking dogs, gardening, etc. What do they think when they see us leave? Do they then watch us during the week to see if any of it makes a difference? Would my life say that it made a difference?
I sat on the balcony one afternoon, watching that amazing view of the Mediterranean. The I-pod was playing one of my husband’s playlists. The Mercy Me song came on—“Word of God Speak.”
Word of God speak
Would You pour down like rain
Washing my eyes to see
Your majesty
To be still and know
That You're in this place
Please let me stay and rest
In Your holiness
Word of God speak
As I thought about the lost land I was admiring, I found myself praying those words. The Word of God needs to be heard in that land. And I pray for the missionaries who are risking a lot to be there and speak that word. And, I thought of the lost land that I live in. Once a proud Christian nation sending out missionaries, it stands in a postmodernistic world with so many believing that the notion of God is a quaint, but out-dated, idea. Now other countries send missionaries to them.! Again, the word of God needs to speak. This time, it is through me that He may choose to speak. I need to remember that He is indeed in this place, and live like it. May I be found faithful. Finally, I thought of the country of my birth and my heart’s love. So quickly moving away from a Christian heritage. So much in need of the Word of God to speak! My prayers turned to the men and women of God I know that are faithfully living lives for Christ and proclaiming the Word. May the Word of God speak clearly through them.
I never go on holiday that I don’t return more appreciative of what we have. This is especially true when we holiday where people are less fortunate materially and financially than we are. But this holiday has changed me spiritually. To walk in Biblical places and yet see no Christian church, to look on the faces of beautiful children and lovely friendly men and women knowing that they face an eternity without God, and to return to a place of freedom to worship and still see lost neighbours who do not even recognize their need to seek Him touched me. I don’t know where to put some of these feelings. I am unsure how the changes will be seen. But God is working at my heart.
And that is what made Turkey an amazing holiday! A beautiful country, yes. Wonderful people, yes. Fascinating sites, yes. Delicious food, yes. But most importantly, God met me there and renewed a fire in me. And that is amazing. Where was the last time God drew you into the sacred? How did it change you? Is it still changing you? I pray if you ask me that question in the next few weeks I will respond that He is still changing me.
Now I am off to work on Christmas preparation. My goal is to finish all my preparation prior to December, so that December is all about reflecting the sacredness of the season.
Thank you for sharing my holiday reflections.
photo of Bible on beach can be found at www.morguefile.com The artist is mercucio.
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