Our host home is beautiful and cozy, but not exactly spacious. We all cram into the family room to have some time together at nights which is wonderful and necessary, but I am a huge ball of sweat at the end. One night I just needed to get some fresh air and some peace, so I went out into the little compound thing to just sit. It was dark out and the stars were shining. I look up at the expanse of the sky and just ask the Lord to bring peace to my stirring soul. I was simply just trying to rest in the Lord, but I was being distracted. The house next door to us, we were told, is a Muslim household, and at this point in time it was very apparent. I have discovered that Muslims blare on loud speakers what I assume is Islamic teaching in Arabic 24 hours a day. Our neighbors had this lovely incessant babble shouting forth, and at first I was really annoyed, but something began to dawn on me. I am seeking to rest in the God of the Universe, the God that I believe to be the true and Almighty God, and next door to me, someone is pouring out their life into a god they truly and earnestly seek to honor as well. Witnessing the Muslims is convicting. They hold nothing back. While my God and their god are entirely different, I sit a little ashamed in my lack of passion and vigor. It doesnt seem real to me that a false god can elicit such emotion and response. My soul is restless, and my prayer and desire is that my God who holds supremacy over all things will ignite true zeal within my soul.
