Therefore you are no longer outsiders (exiles, migrants, and aliens, excluded from the rights of citizens), but you now share citizenship with the saints (God's own people, consecrated and set apart for Himself); and you belong to God's [own] household. – Ephesians 2:19 (AMP)
Friday morning I rose around five a.m. to prepare for the three hour drive to my mother’s house. It was supposed to be a normal visit. My daughter and I would stay at my mother’s and make our rounds. We go to visit my grandmother, my Aunts and cousins come over and we spend a lot of “girl time” together. God had other plans.
This weekend God had made a divine appointment for a precious woman to enter in to our family circle and bless all of our lives out of her tremendous pain. We spent two days with Miriam.
On the drive down, as I often do, I called my mother to let her know we were on our way. This is when she started to unfold the events that had been taking place over the last twenty-four hours. Although I will not go into the details, I will state that I had to call David and ask him to pray for us. His reply to me? Don’t put yourself into a dangerous situation.
My husband was covering us in prayer, my mother was praying, I was praying and only God knows, who else in the world was interceding in those moments.
My daughter, who is twelve, was listening to the three hours of conversations on the drive down. Between interchanges she would ask questions. Answering her honestly, I in turn asked her if she was scared. Her reply, a confident, “I’m not scared”. She had peace and confidence in the prayers and covering of the Blood of Jesus.
Arriving at my mother’s we unloaded the vehicle, chatted for a few minutes, then prepared to go to my grandmother’s. On the way, we would stop and pick up Miriam, who would be going with us. Two houses down, my life was getting ready to be blessed beyond anything I could imagine. I was about to meet Miriam.
Upon entering the house, I was met with an older woman, shorter than myself, with a beautiful green shayla wrapped around her hair. She was wearing a leisure style, velour pants and long sleeved shirt set. I felt no reserve or fear in embracing this woman and kissing her cheek. She was so precious.
We stayed no longer than ten minutes as we then loaded into my mother’s car, with Miriam as well and proceeded the thirty miles to my grandmother’s house. Barely out of the driveway, I watched this woman, a resident of another country, on foreign soil, break down in tears.
Miriam had only met my mother in the past month. She had only spent time with her twice since she had been here. But Miriam had been part of our extended family by marriage for over four years. Miriam only knew what she had been told and now, as well as the next couple days, I would hear her say more than once, “Now I see with my own eyes”.
The stories that I would hear, the stories that the Spirit within me would confirm, were the foundation for the amazing things I would learn of faith, a trust in God and a heart inspiring awe. All of these from a non-Christian woman, who knows God on a level that I do not see evident in most Christians lives.
This is a woman, who embraced a foreigner as her own son, in her own country and provided for him as such, the same as her own children. And when the opportunity came for the seed to produce fruit, she was met with thorns. Yet she embraced my mother and her family still. And my mother embraced her and loved her as well.
I would spend the next two days steeped in an emotional rollercoaster. I would find myself wrapped up in an experience that I was also able to watch from the outside looking in. I watched my mother and her new Kuwaiti “sweet sister”. I watched my Aunts come into my mother’s house and share a meal cooked by precious Miriam’s hands.
I would experience the wisdom of my twelve year old daughter’s observations, as we stayed awake in the night talking in the dark. I would shed tears at my mother’s prayers and visions from God as she shared them with us in the morning.
I would experience the tearing pain of praying for the lost soul of a loved blood relative and the pain caused by them to our precious guest Miriam. I would experience the profound grace of love, poured out upon us by Miriam, in spite of the pain inflicted upon her.
Although the first night would leave me astounded, rolling over the tides of why this would happen, I would carry with me a distinct statement from that first day of meeting her.
Miriam in sharing with us had stated that in everything she tolerated at the hands of our relative, there was one thing she would not under any circumstances. “You say about me, my family, but NOT my country! You say my country bad, that mean I bad! No, you will NOT! I say STOP”!
As she was sharing with us that this was what she had spoken, I found myself in utter amazement. She absolutely lived something that we as Christians not only miss, but have no loyalty to.
Our representation of our citizenship: Miriam understood it.
I just kept thinking over the fact that this woman had so much passion for her country. She was vigorous over how it was represented. She would not say stop for herself, but she would not be shaken in her defense of the country of her citizenship.
She had something I needed in my life representing my true place of residency. She made me think. Little did I know all God had in store.
All I knew was I couldn’t wait for tomorrow…