Thoughts over a Bowl of Cookie Dough

So, I'm sitting at the dining room table eating my roommate's cookie dough out of the bowl on a nice quiet Thursday evening. I don't know when the last time was that I spent a week night at home, and I am thankful for these quiet moments. The day hasn't been COMPLETELY quiet I suppose. It started with an epic battle against the ants in my bathroom this morning. I wiped them up 3 or 4 times, and they kept coming. Such determined little bugs! But I called for reinforcements and my roommate is supposed to be bringing home some ant spray tonight. So we hope they won't win the war and take over the apartment.

I have two roommates. Amber is 26- a Kindergarten Teacher at an elementary school in New Maadi. My other roommate, Meg, is a student at the American University of Cairo for the semester. She's really enjoying it and comes home with lots of stories. Most of the friends that Meg has made at university are Egyptian, and sometimes she brings them over to our apartment and I get to meet them. One of her best friends, Moe, comes frequently to help her study Arabic.

Meg often tells me about the conversations she has with Moe. She is very passionate about what she believes and talks very openly with Moe about her desires to love and serve our Brother. And when she speaks like this with him, you can imagine it causes tension. He cringes and says "Don't say that He is the Son of Dad." He cringes not because he is offended, but because he is concerned. GENUINELY concerned. He- like many of us in the "family" of believers- is afraid for his friend because he honestly believes she will not spend her eternity in heaven. He begs her to read passages from his book. He shows her videos online of testimonies of people who were not of his religion but then "found the truth." They move him to tears. Just like ours move us to tears. He tries to persuade in the same ways we try to persuade.

You know, it's amazing to me, how similar these two look in so many ways. Just the other day, I was walking back to my apartment on a Friday morning and passed the mosque that is right next door to our building. It's a pretty big mosque and its call to prayer has become a very normal part of our day- sounding very loudly in the mornings and noon and evenings. They have their services on Friday mornings, and as I passed by on this particular Friday, I peered in to see all the people. As I was looking in, a middle aged Egyptian man and his 10 or 11 year old son got out of their car and shut the door- walking up the steps in their "Friday clothes." And as I kept walking, a young Egyptian man in his early 20's or so came running by me, obviously running a little late and attempting to sneak in the back... and as the service gets out the families converse and socialize.... and how familiar it looks from the outside.

On the inside of the mosque there are countless people; but on the inside of the people, there is an underlying emptiness.

There are many M's, like my roommate's friend, who genuinely believe what they have heard all of their lives, and because of their beliefs, some of them are scared for us. They think we're lost.

What a strange feeling to be on the other side of things. Yet I have a relationship, and His Spirit lives in me- testifying to the Truth of His Word. We must pray for wisdom and revelation to penetrate the vale of darkness over hearts.

Well, I've finally put the bowl of cookie dough away (probably not soon enough), so I guess I'll sign off for the day. :) Blessings!