Food connects people. It's a conversation-starter and a means of cultural expression. In many cultures, breaking bread with someone seals a friendship and represents a pledge of hospitality and protection. Most importantly, it communicates across language and cultural barriers and opens the doors of the heart.
Recently, my family was honored to host my friend Rania* (who has been helping me with Iraqi Arabic) and her husband for a home-cooked Egyptian feast in our home. They had also spent time in Egypt many years ago, so we all enjoyed sharing memories and comparing recipes. Later, Rania shared how honored they were to spend this time in my family's home, and promised to return the favor.
They have finally settled into a "good American life" -- the husband has an engineering job, their daughter is excelling in college, and they just purchased a house -- but it isn't bringing Rania the peace she longs for. Most of her family is still in Mosul (modern-day Nineveh), and she mourns the loss of loved ones and the destruction of a once beautiful, historic city. She has heard the Truth, and she is seeking God. Pray that she will find Him. Pray that I will be faithful to follow up.
That same week, I was reminded that Arab culture is not the only one in which food speaks. I had gone to visit my young Afghan friend Nadia's house (whom I've known since my first day volunteering at a For the Nations kids' club), so I could meet her mother. I had excuses not to go; I was tired, I was shy, it felt too random to just show up at someone's door uninvited when I didn't even know the mom. But the Holy Spirit gave me three important reminders that I couldn't shake. First, as an American I am the host, and refugees almost never take the initiative in new relationships. Secondly, it's perfectly appropriate and even honoring in Afghan culture to simply show up at someone's house for tea. Finally, hadn't I been praying for opportunities to get to know the children's mothers? So I went.
What followed was a four-hour-long "visit" to Afghanistan and a journey into this family's life. Over tea and pistachios, Sanga* and I chatted (through her children as our Pashto-English translators) about our lives. She showed me photos and videos of her hometown, family, and the various dishes they used to cook. When I mentioned that I had tried bolani (a sort of large, flat peroghi) at a restaurant in Dallas, the children were astonished.
"What?! You know about bolani? You must come back for lunch this week and our mother will make her famous bolani for you!" So I did.
And I am so thankful, because after the meal Sanga brought out her English book to practice with me, and confided that she hopes to do driver's education, but has no ride to the class. I offered to take her sometime, and she asked if she could invite two other women (whose children I also know from Kids' Club!). God also gave me an opportunity to clearly share Truth with 8-year-old Nadia about how I can know for sure where I will go when I die. But that is a whole other story. :) Please pray for continuing relationship with this precious family.
God is working, and it is a privilege to share with you the results of your prayers! Keep them coming!
*Names changed for privacy reasons. To respect the privacy of individuals mentioned in this post, please do not share this information in a public setting or on social media.*
Recently, my family was honored to host my friend Rania* (who has been helping me with Iraqi Arabic) and her husband for a home-cooked Egyptian feast in our home. They had also spent time in Egypt many years ago, so we all enjoyed sharing memories and comparing recipes. Later, Rania shared how honored they were to spend this time in my family's home, and promised to return the favor.
They have finally settled into a "good American life" -- the husband has an engineering job, their daughter is excelling in college, and they just purchased a house -- but it isn't bringing Rania the peace she longs for. Most of her family is still in Mosul (modern-day Nineveh), and she mourns the loss of loved ones and the destruction of a once beautiful, historic city. She has heard the Truth, and she is seeking God. Pray that she will find Him. Pray that I will be faithful to follow up.
That same week, I was reminded that Arab culture is not the only one in which food speaks. I had gone to visit my young Afghan friend Nadia's house (whom I've known since my first day volunteering at a For the Nations kids' club), so I could meet her mother. I had excuses not to go; I was tired, I was shy, it felt too random to just show up at someone's door uninvited when I didn't even know the mom. But the Holy Spirit gave me three important reminders that I couldn't shake. First, as an American I am the host, and refugees almost never take the initiative in new relationships. Secondly, it's perfectly appropriate and even honoring in Afghan culture to simply show up at someone's house for tea. Finally, hadn't I been praying for opportunities to get to know the children's mothers? So I went.
What followed was a four-hour-long "visit" to Afghanistan and a journey into this family's life. Over tea and pistachios, Sanga* and I chatted (through her children as our Pashto-English translators) about our lives. She showed me photos and videos of her hometown, family, and the various dishes they used to cook. When I mentioned that I had tried bolani (a sort of large, flat peroghi) at a restaurant in Dallas, the children were astonished.
"What?! You know about bolani? You must come back for lunch this week and our mother will make her famous bolani for you!" So I did.
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| Bolani (fried flatbread filled with mashed potato and herbs), fried fish, & homemade yogurt |
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| Nadia with her brothers & sister gathered around the traditional desterkhan cloth for our lunch. |
And I am so thankful, because after the meal Sanga brought out her English book to practice with me, and confided that she hopes to do driver's education, but has no ride to the class. I offered to take her sometime, and she asked if she could invite two other women (whose children I also know from Kids' Club!). God also gave me an opportunity to clearly share Truth with 8-year-old Nadia about how I can know for sure where I will go when I die. But that is a whole other story. :) Please pray for continuing relationship with this precious family.
God is working, and it is a privilege to share with you the results of your prayers! Keep them coming!
*Names changed for privacy reasons. To respect the privacy of individuals mentioned in this post, please do not share this information in a public setting or on social media.*
