I promised myself not to write any more posts about Stefghanistan and all the twists & turns my life has experienced since then, but this is a story that I cannot keep to myself. It is one that I would want everyone in my life to hear & witness because it marks one of the most remarkable encounters I have had with Christ.
For those of you who are friends with me on Facebook, you may be familiar with an incredible story that I have shared on behalf of myself & my dearest friend, Sabera, who was my Dari tutor in Afghanistan in the summer of 2011.
When I moved to Afghanistan, the org did not find the local security in Kabul to be safe enough for me to attend a language school. I was then introduced to Sabera, a local Hazara villager, who dropped out of high school at age 17 when her father passed away to support her family of 9 younger siblings and their mother. She had been trained to teach Dari to expats which is how we got connected to one another. In that time, I was already falling into my pit of loneliness & shedding my weight along with my joy in my physical & spiritual state of defeat. However, every working morning, my day began with Sabera knocking on my door, which triggered a sense of relief from the waking moments of anxiety.
In our sessions of broken English & Dari, the focus would always digress from household & marketplace vocabulary words to our lives— our two lives from complete opposite worlds in wonder of where the other one came from; connecting in our own longings to share our stories.
When I finally conceded to my own pride & realized that I had to leave Afghanistan, it was Sabera & our relationship that tugged my heart. I felt the burden that my presence was a sense of hope for her, the way that her's was mine. In our last session together, we spent the entire 90 minutes in laughter & tears. We fantasized about our future, going through every area of our lives from dream jobs to inviting the other to our wedding. It was all a make-believe, but neither of us wanted to be the first to admit to reality. What the laughter concealed was the actual pain of hopelessness, convinced that our lives would never realign in any moment in time.
My faith, smaller than that of a mustard seed.
You can say otherwise, but Sabera was living in a 10x10 small quarter with her family of 11. They had no electricity in their space & my words of comfort to her were solely that— words. I had no real solution to ever bringing her, let alone her entire family to the States.
Receiving a phone call from an unknown number this past June & hearing a distant yet familiar voice on the other end marks a moment in my life that has taken God & his supremacy to an unimaginable level. Sabera is now living in the outskirts of Chicago with her entire family, together, pursuing the American dream.
How can I say this in any better way....... I suck. My words will fail to really display the true glory of God.
Just watch this video & may it tug at your heart to believe in a God who goes to an extent far greater than that of our hearts & minds.
Continue to keep Sabera & her family in your prayers. Our friendship is only the beginning to what the Gospel truly has in store for this fantasy.
For those of you who are friends with me on Facebook, you may be familiar with an incredible story that I have shared on behalf of myself & my dearest friend, Sabera, who was my Dari tutor in Afghanistan in the summer of 2011.
When I moved to Afghanistan, the org did not find the local security in Kabul to be safe enough for me to attend a language school. I was then introduced to Sabera, a local Hazara villager, who dropped out of high school at age 17 when her father passed away to support her family of 9 younger siblings and their mother. She had been trained to teach Dari to expats which is how we got connected to one another. In that time, I was already falling into my pit of loneliness & shedding my weight along with my joy in my physical & spiritual state of defeat. However, every working morning, my day began with Sabera knocking on my door, which triggered a sense of relief from the waking moments of anxiety.
In our sessions of broken English & Dari, the focus would always digress from household & marketplace vocabulary words to our lives— our two lives from complete opposite worlds in wonder of where the other one came from; connecting in our own longings to share our stories.
When I finally conceded to my own pride & realized that I had to leave Afghanistan, it was Sabera & our relationship that tugged my heart. I felt the burden that my presence was a sense of hope for her, the way that her's was mine. In our last session together, we spent the entire 90 minutes in laughter & tears. We fantasized about our future, going through every area of our lives from dream jobs to inviting the other to our wedding. It was all a make-believe, but neither of us wanted to be the first to admit to reality. What the laughter concealed was the actual pain of hopelessness, convinced that our lives would never realign in any moment in time.
My faith, smaller than that of a mustard seed.
You can say otherwise, but Sabera was living in a 10x10 small quarter with her family of 11. They had no electricity in their space & my words of comfort to her were solely that— words. I had no real solution to ever bringing her, let alone her entire family to the States.
Receiving a phone call from an unknown number this past June & hearing a distant yet familiar voice on the other end marks a moment in my life that has taken God & his supremacy to an unimaginable level. Sabera is now living in the outskirts of Chicago with her entire family, together, pursuing the American dream.
How can I say this in any better way....... I suck. My words will fail to really display the true glory of God.
Just watch this video & may it tug at your heart to believe in a God who goes to an extent far greater than that of our hearts & minds.
Continue to keep Sabera & her family in your prayers. Our friendship is only the beginning to what the Gospel truly has in store for this fantasy.
