Behind the Veil:: The Angel That Troubled the waters

Living Behind the Veil

I'm often asked what I wear in Afghanistan and what it's like to wear a veil. It's freedom. Freedom to have a bad hair day, freedom to arrange my chadar to conceal the curve of my breasts and backside, freedom to not be an expatriate for a little while. It means freedom to hide even on the street from the Afghan men's eyes which seem to strip me naked.

When I relax my shoulders and walk less purposefully, less confidently, my eyes downcast and covered by sunglasses, I pass for an Afghan woman. I hear the men whisper in Dari, "Is she a foreigner or local woman?" I chuckle but am silent. On the street, I'm also a free target....freely exposed to groping, sexual innuendos whispered to me as a man bicycles by, free to have stones thrown at me, freely seen as no one's wife, daughter, sister, mother, friend, or boss. I step inside my gate, and remove my chapan and chadar. Now I'm someone's boss, motherhood returns to me as little steps run to greet me, and I receive a kiss from my adoring husband. Now I'm free to his loving and gentle eyes which know and enjoy my curves, free to once again be under the protective umbrella of being a wife, mother, friend, colleague, boss, niece, sister, daughter, woman.

Monday, February 26, 2018

Broken on the Wheels of Living

Sometimes, God does not answer the cry of our heart. We think the pain we experience means we are either in sin or need psychotherapy.

Could it be instead we are experiencing the very same pain Jesus experienced at some point in his short life on earth?

Could it be our pain mirrors the pain in His heart, and thereby the pain of our Father's heart?

Anger, grief, sadness, weariness, loneliness, disappointment - these are all emotions He felt.

Wilder's play (1) demonstrates the spiritual reality of John 5 - the healing at the Pool of Bethesda.

The doctor wants to get in to the pool to relieve his melancholy and depression, but the Angel will not allow him.

The Angel says,

Without your wound where would your power be? It is your very remorse that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men. The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In Love’s service only the wounded soldiers can serve. Draw back.

Those who are aware of their woundedness and willingness to work through the pain are people the Miracle Maker can work with. Those who are unwilling or unaware of their need to sit in the dirt on the side of the road and beg the passing Nazarene, "Jesus, Son of David, Have mercy on me," diminish their usefulness to the Master.