Yes I am a disillusioned Christian who has secured (according to the church) a front row seat in the kingdom of hell; I proclaim out loud that I am closer to God than the Pope will ever be.
Lost in the meanderings of religious teachings, and a spoon fed faith in my early years, I can now affirm that I am a better Christian than most of the men of the cloth I have had the misfortune to encounter.
Born in the Biblical land of milk ad honey; I have witnessed suffering inflicted by “the people of the book”. I have seen holy men act against their vows, and I have bared witness to the repercussions.
I even came to question God’s wisdom and his very existence. I even used such doubts as an excuse to my misdeeds.
I might have embarked on the wrongful path for a while, but found it not so fulfilling; on the contrary it brought me closer to understand my own spirituality.
Finally I can rest my weary head to sleep at night; not because I have changed in my convictions; but for I have encountered pure innocence.
Innocence that stemmed from the eyes of a deprived child; a child that did not even ask to be born. Not even an orphan, but a child that was abandoned by his own parents for some lame excuse. A child that will cling on to any iota of TLC a stranger could provide. A child willing to prostitute a smile for time spent even pretending that you care.
In this Biblical (my foot) land of milk and honey, we have forgotten the mission that was bestowed upon us (us children of the book, and not only Christians) to love and help one another; and yet we criticize the west and their (loose) values.
In a small village in Bikfaya called village ---…--- I found refuge. And moreover I found myself.
I have found a sense a being and belonging within the eyes of those, not only less fortunate but those who enjoy a “joie de vivre” second to none; for they do not know any better (and that is a shame). A community populated on an average of 85% of destitute, abandoned, orphaned, forgotten children; being taken care of by volunteers who are not foreign to their plights.
Yes you can go incognito and donate outgrown clothes and toys, and pretend that you have moved one step closer on the ladder to paradise. But if you ever have the courage to meet the kids; you are hooked for life.
Never (even with your own flesh and blood) would you see such happiness, love and gratitude than you would see at the “village S.O.S” or any other organization of the sort.
When you feel that life is pulling you down and you are down on your luck, take the trip and go and visit those who are less fortunate, it is cheaper than a therapist; and the ripple effects are much wider.
FOOD FOR THOUGHT.
