the elderly

Some friends and I had taken a boat to an island off the coast. the ruins we saw under the clear turquoise water were reminders of civilizations past. we stopped at the small island to see the castle on the top of the hill; however, we never entered the castle ruins. we wandered around the small island that was blooming with flowers and pomegranate trees. goats and rams were unloaded from small boats and tied up outside the small dwellings in preparation for the sacrifice the next day. as we wandered around taking in all the smells and quaint sights, an elderly lady drinking juice from a box, called us over to talk to her. She was blind and had many aches and pains that she wanted to tell someone about. I talked with her, held her hand, but refused to sit down beside her explaining that we were on a tour of her island. She was very insisted and after we left her, i was had a twinge of remorse that i did not take the time to sit and listen to her heart. i had more important things to do it seemed. we keep on walking trying to find the path that would lead us toward the docks where we could sit and enjoy a cup of tea. we passed by a small house and heard moaning sounds coming from the window. as we drew closer we realized it was a elderly woman in bed rocking back and forth, groaning either from physical pain or from a broken heart. as we sat in our boat back to the mainland, my heart was saddened by these two elderly women, for whom Christ died, that would not have much of a chance to hear the good news tucked away on a tiny island. who was caring for them? would they die without hope? i vowed that next time i would forgo my cup of tea to take time to listen to the elderly, knowing that one day i will be one too.

cemetery stroll

This morning i decided to take a walk with my headphones in and i stumbled across a Muslim cemetery. It was well kept, as far as Turkish cemeteries go, with rock paths and patches of grass. As it was the Sacrifice Holiday this week, many fresh flowers were on the graves and people would come to pray for their dead. I strolled along the path reading the tombstones of each grave. Some were of children who died the day they were born or in early childhood. Others were older graves, like one where the date of birth was 1337 and the date of death was 1997. When Ataturk changed the Turkish calendar from the Islamic calendar to the Gregorian calendar, the dates changed from 1300s to the 1900s. so the man was not 660 years old but actually 60 years old! But the saddest parts of the tombstones were the inscriptions, which represented real people who lived and died in real time and are now in a Christless eternity. Many of them would say Aunt, Uncle, Grandma and maybe what they did in life for a living, the Butcher, Banker, Coffee Maker. Their identities being in their family or their jobs. Some were inscribed with how good of a person they were, how they would rest in peace or even be happy in the afterlife.

Most tombstones were inscribed with the words "Surah Fatiha," which is the first chapter of the Qur'an. Verse 4 says, "the Owner of the Day of Judgement," which means after death there will be Day of Judgement on which one's deeds are accounted for. Before the Day of Judgement and after death, there are grave questions, which are to be answered correctly based on practices while alive. The 3 questions are as follows:
Who is your Lord?
What is your Religion?
Who is your messenger(prophet)?

As i wandered around in sadness, i was listening to Newsboys song called You are my King:

I'm forgiven because You were forsaken
I'm accepted, You were condemned
I'm alive and well, Your Spirit is within me
Because You died and rose again
Amazing love, how can it be
That You, my King, should die for me?

It made me think of how Christ died like these people did, but He rose again, and therefore, i will rise again too one day. These Turks don't know the amazing love of God that their King had died for them. these truths made me sad but at the same time enlivened my spirit with a new vigor to tell those around me of this amazing love and that they too can be forgiven and call Jesus "Lord" at the end of their lives.