The only thing I could see were her eyes as we passed each other on that busy street in Dhaka. Horns blared and rickshaw bells called out in warning to passerby's of their rushed pace and our eyes met for a few seconds. Although her eyes were the same color as the black Muslim scarf covering her face and head, they were pools of wonderment, desire, and questions she dared not voice. Venturing a smile in her direction, the woman quickly averted her eyes out of respect and culture and brushed past my shoulder as I made my way up the street.
Glancing over my shoulder at her retreating figure, I felt pain and a sense of extreme inequality pass over me. We were supposed to be the same. We are both women, about the same age, and walking the same street on top of the same substance God made us out of: dust. We are all dust. Equal. And yet, here I stand without a black scarf to cover my face: I am free. Free to drive a car, love who I choose, and exist in this world as an individual who has the power of choice. She does as well, but not without repercussions from her cultural background. She, as many do, lives in fear. Fear of rejection and disappointment. Fear had diminished the value of her existence. Her eyes told me this much.
Service is deeper and more personal than signing up for Service days and flying across oceans to live among other people. Service is giving life to the value in which that person was made with. Value which was breathed into us from the beginning.
The black-scarved woman never looked back, just down, clutching her grocery bag tightly between fingers and I too turned and walked on with eyes now filled with wonderment and awe. He who has breathed life, value, into me has given me a great gift and responsibility: to bring the light of value to the eyes of this world through the reflection of Jesus in my words, in my actions, and in my eyes. Oh, how great is a God who is gracious enough to love me and extend His love through my dust-filled skin to the eyes of this world. For it is in His eyes alone where value is fully manifested and freely given.
Glancing over my shoulder at her retreating figure, I felt pain and a sense of extreme inequality pass over me. We were supposed to be the same. We are both women, about the same age, and walking the same street on top of the same substance God made us out of: dust. We are all dust. Equal. And yet, here I stand without a black scarf to cover my face: I am free. Free to drive a car, love who I choose, and exist in this world as an individual who has the power of choice. She does as well, but not without repercussions from her cultural background. She, as many do, lives in fear. Fear of rejection and disappointment. Fear had diminished the value of her existence. Her eyes told me this much.
Service is deeper and more personal than signing up for Service days and flying across oceans to live among other people. Service is giving life to the value in which that person was made with. Value which was breathed into us from the beginning.
The black-scarved woman never looked back, just down, clutching her grocery bag tightly between fingers and I too turned and walked on with eyes now filled with wonderment and awe. He who has breathed life, value, into me has given me a great gift and responsibility: to bring the light of value to the eyes of this world through the reflection of Jesus in my words, in my actions, and in my eyes. Oh, how great is a God who is gracious enough to love me and extend His love through my dust-filled skin to the eyes of this world. For it is in His eyes alone where value is fully manifested and freely given.
Hey this is Parker I was wondering if you got your visa and also if you got that new baby you guys were going to get from the south when I left
ReplyDeleteThis is such a fresh and deeper perspective, i really like it :) It would have fit perfectly with the week of worship we had, the theme was abiding service :)
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