A Limitless Love

Growing up in the south, the Bible Belt as it is often referred to, I was very much culturally shut off from most beliefs other than my traditional Christian Baptist background. As I've grown older and had the chance to go beyond the borders of Arkansas, and even the US, I've learned the importance of the acceptance of every individual, not just like minded people. This is most true as I've learned, and continue to learn, to love people as Christ does. 

When it was first mentioned I could attend the Muslim mosque as an assignment replacement in my Islamic Law class, I was a little uncertain. I am not sure what I expected the situation to be like, but I knew I had to fully cover myself in prayer before ever committing to go. 

Halfway through the semester, not wanting to write yet another weekly paper, I decided to give it a try. On a Friday afternoon I grabbed my roommate and headed for Little Rock to experience for myself the mosque, where people of the Muslim faith express worship.

We got there a little early, which for me is a big accomplishment as most of you know. My main goal in going was not to offend anyone and to cover that place in prayer, welcoming the Holy Spirit where He is normally shut out. That is one reason I asked Kristen to go with me.

"For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst." Matthew 18:20

We found a place to park, but only after I had entered the exit. Already a little frazzled and confused, I desperately searched from the safety of my vehicle for the women's entrance of the building. (I was thankful enough that I knew before hand there was even such an entrance.)

We noticed a woman standing beside a door, assuming this was the entrance we were seeking, we prayed, then got out of the car and headed her way. I collected myself and my thoughts and entered through the door with the "ladies" sign in place. 

I know I cannot really compare the two, but as I was walking through that door, one that clearly meant to separate, I felt just a tiny bit of what most African Americans probably felt in the south before and during the civil rights movement. I am so thankful for the strides our society has made in the effort against that and I pray we keep making efforts to realize all people are created equal. Ok, I'm getting off my soapbox. 

Upon entering the building, we removed our shoes. I knew enough about Muslim customs to know this was the respectful thing to do. Because we were still a little early, there was only one other woman inside. I quickly approached her and mentioned we were there to observe for a class. 

I asked her where the best place was for us to be. She pointed us to the carpeted area where the women normally sit, and kneel, during service. There were just a few white folding chairs along the back row. She suggested we take a chairs, I'm assuming so we would feel as comfortable as possible. 

I settled into my chair and my surroundings quiet comfortably. As women and children all began to enter the building they each seemed friendly, welcoming me with a smile. With each returned smile, I also sent a prayer for truth. 

I did find it amusing, when another white woman came in as a first time guest, everyone automatically assumed we knew each other and were together. They put her in the chair beside me.

Women were all bowing and praying before anything officially got started, fulfilling some of their daily prayers (I was later informed). I watched as they took such reverence as they bowed before their god.

The dedication these people have to their faith is nothing like the dedication of your run of the mill religions, probably not even that of most Christians. With this I was moved. 

Moved to love. Moved to pray. 

The sermon began, the man speaking was talking about money and how they didn't need to spend it frivolously because it's not theirs. This particular message is one I've heard before, in my Christian church.  Just more weight to the argument Muslim people are normal everyday people. 

After the message, the people began to pray as a group. Because I was in the back, I was able to fully observe this act. 

I did not partake in the bowing and praying, although I stood each time the people stood. I didn't want to cross any lines in the act of actual worship because my dedication is to the One True King. 

After the whole service was over we were approached by several people, greeting us and wishing us well. 

I have no explanation of this new found love I have for people of the Muslim faith, other than through Gods power. 

I see a woman dressed in full burqa and immediately want to hug her and let her know she is not being judged for being different or for visually expressing her dedication to their faith. 

It makes me angry the enemy has deceived them so much. Telling them all of these false things about God.

It actually pisses me off. 

I can only imagine God has given me the desire to love on these people because one day, in some way, I will be used to share the gospel with a body of Muslim people or at least a group of people whose faith and culture is much different than my own.

The only true regret I have about the whole experience is what I choose to wear, although I was dressed completely modest and was in no way offensive to the women.

Since coming back from India, I have days where I want to wear my salwar kameez or attempt to wrap myself in my sari. Then I remember the struggle the Indian women who dressed me had - and I reconsider. 

I did rock that sari though.

I encourage you to ask God to give you a deeper love for people surrounding you that look nothing like you, or that maybe share a different faith. When we allow this love to flow through us, they are given a real chance at experiencing truth and freedom that comes from knowing the King of Kings. 

There is no limit to His love, and I promise He will gladly love these people through you.