Tired from travelling all day on Good Friday we decided to
stop for supper. We went to one restaurant but after surveying the place decided to move on to
find another place. A waitress came to
take our order and we chatted briefly. Fatima was so pleased that we inquired about her
life. Momentarily I think she forgot she was on the job. We discovered that she
was from Kirkuk, Iraq and was very worried about her family there. In about one
month she would be moving to another state. Remembering we had a
Jesus movie put out by Power to Change in the Badini Kurdish language in the car my husband went outside to get it. Fatima got busy serving other customers. For
the rest of our time there we enjoyed our delicious food. A different waitress came to our table to check if we needed anything. Then the owner
brought us the bill. We wondered if we would have an opportunity to actually
give Fatima the movie.
As my husband paid the bill I motioned to Fatima to please come to
my table. “Do you know what special day
this is, Fatima?” I asked her. “No,” she replied. “It’s Good Friday. Do you know what happened on Good Friday many
years ago?” I started to explain, adding, “Someone very special died and
suffered for you and sacrificed his life for you. It was Jesus and He died to
forgive you of all your sins and take away the punishment for them.” She looked amazed at me and clung to the movie pressing it against her chest. You would have thought I had given her a million dollars. “Have you
ever heard of this before?” I asked. “No,” she replied. It brought a pang of sorrow and sadness to my
heart that Fatima had been in the United States, the Land of Many Churches, seven years and had not heard the
message of Good Friday. With eyes shining like stars she thanked me profusely
for the gift of the movie. “I will show my husband this, too,” she added. We
talked some more about all the terrible things happening in Iraq and how there
was no peace. I told her she would find out how Jesus gives peace when she
watches the movie. Fatima just didn’t want the conversation to end. “I’ll pray for you tonight, Fatima,” I said
closing our brief time together. She needed to get back to her job. She left me
pressing the movie to her chest.
It turned out to be a very good Good Friday for me. A precious
Iraqi Muslim woman got her first chance to hear what Good Friday is all about for the
first time in her seven years in America.
Dear heavenly Father, what a privilege to tell someone the story of the cross who has never heard it before. Please help me to share with clarity, boldness, and joy and to not be fearful or nervous. Please help me because I never have done it before and I don't know how to do it. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Dear heavenly Father, what a privilege to tell someone the story of the cross who has never heard it before. Please help me to share with clarity, boldness, and joy and to not be fearful or nervous. Please help me because I never have done it before and I don't know how to do it. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
