As I visited with some students in my English class during our fifteen-minute break, one of my brightest students roamed in bearing a bright green rug rolled up under his arm.
“What is he doing,” I thought as I carried on my conversations. I watched as he unfurled the rug and began his methodical prayers. Up and down he went over and over again with not one of the many students in the room even batting an eye.
In fact, it was painful to hear their loud voices while not even a foot away, this student was making one of his prayers to Allah. I began speaking softer, but soon realized I was the only one that felt awkward.
This instance reminded me of when I went to the eye doctor with my sweet new friend Hannah a couple weeks ago. As we were sitting in the waiting you, we began talking about Jesus. During our conversation, an older lady wrapped her feet and knelt down two feet away from us on a similar vibrant rug beginning her prayers. I spoke to Hannah about how prayer was dear to Jesus’ heart. Sometimes He would find a discreet place on a mountain and maybe He would spend all night close to His Father. I also talked about His idea of prayer that we should go somewhere in secret.
The other night, Hannah spent the night with me. As she was in her bed asleep, I crept away to spend time in the word. I felt heaviness from the busy day and needed a moment to exhale and speak to the Father on hers and so many other Kurdish people’s behalf.
The next morning, she saw my Bible and pointed to it and asked did you go read and pray last night. I shyly answered yes, unsure of where she was going with it. She smiled and said that is so good! I think Jesus’ word changed her without her even desiring it.
I hope that even in the Kurds’ strong contrary beliefs, Jesus will change them by the truth of His word and the beauty that flows from it. Pray with me that all of the Kurds will be changed by Jesus’ way of prayer.
