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Previous Challenge Entry (EDITOR'S CHOICE)
Topic: EXPRESSION( 11/12/20)

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TITLE: Joy Unveiled | Writing Challenge By Linda Lawrence 11/19/20

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A knock on the door. I feel my face stretch with a joyous smile. Areej, my Saudi Arabian friend has arrived. “How are you?” are the first words out of her mouth every week.

“I’m fine,” I say, “how are you?”

“I’m pretty good,” she says with a lilt and tilt of her head as she removes her niqab.

I clap my hands in glee at the way Areej has casually answered. It’s the first time her reply has not been the formal, “I am well.” We’ve come a long way.

It’s been a year since we were assigned to each other as English conversation partners. By the time the two-month commitment was over, we were friends—albeit, formal friends. But today we are family, sisters—although I’m old enough to be her grandmother. At the beginning I held out little hope for us ever having meaningful conversation, heart talk.

We did well at reading each other’s expressions—but understanding each other’s words? Not so much. Neither one of us could understand the other’s pronunciation. That was the problem. Not vocabulary, but pronunciation. I must confess I have learned very little Arabic, but on this day I realize I’m understanding almost everything she is saying. What joy to truly communicate with ease. We laugh, celebrating understanding.

“We have only two hours today,” I apologize, “because another friend needs me to drive her husband to a doctor’s appointment.” Areej is immediately sympathetic towards everyone involved. “Well, I found out about this just before you arrived. He can’t drive himself because he got a DUI.”

“DUI? What is that?”

“Driving under the influence . . . drunk driving.” I wrinkle my nose.

Areej’s face shows her sympathy being challenged, just as mine had been when I heard the phone message asking for my help. I was glad I had missed the call so that I had time to adjust my honest but ugly feelings before I replied.

But Areej thinks I gladly agreed to help him out. “You are perfect,” Areej declares with such conviction that I am compelled to set her straight.

“Perfect? Oh no, not perfect at all. You would not think me perfect if you had been here when I heard the message.” I stood, demonstrating my initial gut reaction, paced the room, waving my hands, face lifted toward heaven, muttering, “I don’t even like this man. He’s cruel to my friend. He calls her horrible names. He threatens her. She calls the police. I don’t want to help him!”

I sat back down, and added with a sigh, “But of course Jesus loves this man as much as He loves me, so I knew He expected me to drive him to his appointment. But you can see, I am far from perfect.”

“No, no,” she insisted, “you were angry but you listened to God and you said yes. So I think you are perfect. You are doing what is good.”

I had to laugh again. My Muslim friend is looking at me with our Father’s compassionate loving eyes. Her face is glowing with approval, just as my heart is being warmed by a consciousness of a growing spiritual kinship. I don’t have to pretend, or worry about being a perfect evangelistic witness when I am with Areej. I can just be my stumbling self and week after week God uses my very weaknesses to display His perfection.

At the beginning of our acquaintance I used a forced smile to veil my fear and insecurities about interacting with a veiled Saudi woman. But since we each have let down our guard and entered wholeheartedly into loving each other as family and friends, what most amazes me is the joy that has been unveiled. I’m quite convinced the day will come when we will truly be sisters in Christ.

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