#uccd

When I found out that moving to Dubai was a very real possibility, one of the first things I researched was whether freedom of religion, specifically Christian religions, existed here.  I quickly learned that citizens of the UAE are Muslims and are forbidden to convert to any other religion, however all other individuals are given religious freedom.  They can own land and buildings of worship, gather for worship, etc.  However, (public) evangelism and blatant attempts to convert Muslims is a crime.  Ok, got it, no handing out Bibles in public, I can live with that.  But freedom of religion itself does not ensure that Christianity is thriving in Dubai.  I took my research a step further to find out whether people really ARE gathering to worship God in Dubai.  

I found the United Christian Church of Dubai.  It is pretty much the only well-established protestant church in Dubai.  After reading their website and finding that their beliefs are in line with mine, I was also encouraged to discover that they were established enough to have toddler play-groups, an extensive youth program, and several Bible studies to fit the needs of its members.  I prayed that this would be a wonderful new church home for us because, well, it was kind of our only option!

Shortly after arrival in Dubai, I started with the toddler play group which was a perfect way to meet other moms.  I very quickly made friends with whom we started meeting outside of church at the zoo, playgrounds, family pool parties, etc.  I also attend the women’s Bible Study where it is nice to continually see these friends, but also learn from other women in the church who are so much wiser than me and have been willing to mentor me in very open and honest ways since the first day I started attending.  Church (which is held on Friday here as the weekends fall on Friday/Saturday) is pretty standard when it comes to protestant churches, however the sermon is quite long making the whole service almost an hour and 45 minutes.  That’s about 45 minutes longer than many of us want to sit in church, but here the pastors are well-educated, engaging, and interesting!  It’s been such a long time since I have found a church that really challenges me mentally and spiritually.  Not to mention, my girls both go to their individual “Friday School” classes which gives me the ability to stay focused while attending the service.  And both girls are learning about Jesus - Biblical lessons that are taught in a way that toddlers can grasp the concepts.

I decided to write about this topic because the last week was one that shook my emotions and left me clinging desperately to my faith.  To start, I was awoken on Tuesday with a call from my mother to inform me that a long-time family friend, Jerry Harrington, had died.  He was younger than my own father and while people in that age range are naturally starting to die, it doesn’t feel as though that truth makes the reality any easier to stomach.  It’s especially difficult to be so far away from family and friends at a time like this, and not to be able to attend the funeral.  

On Friday, we headed to church and I was hoping to find some comfort for the soul as I was still feeling down.  Turns out what I found was just the opposite.  The pastor started by stating that the church had endured great loss this past week.  I thought to myself, “how ironic, I have also endured a great loss.”  He went on to say that one of the families, who are members of the church, lost their two sons in a swimming accident that happened at a fellowship gathering of many other church goers.  The sons were 14 and 16 years old - they were not noticed at the bottom of the deep end of the pool before it was too late - and as both were good swimmers, no one suspected anything was wrong, and no one knows exactly what happened.  All of the other moms and kids at the pool witnessed the accident.  The news of this broke not only my heart but also a dam inside me and I had to rush to the bathroom until I could stop crying.

Part of what got to me is that the parents and sisters of these lost boys were actually sitting in church that day - exactly three days after their sons had died and before they’d even been buried.  I can’t imagine losing a child, definitely not two children, but then to have the strength to sit in church with the same people who had invited me to the pool in the first place!  I was truly amazed and inspired by their faith and their ability to maintain trust in a God who sometimes lets horrific things happen when nothing and no one on earth can provide an explanation.  It was during this service that my assurance in this church was reaffirmed.  That there was such a powerful support system in place to comfort and strengthen this family through such a difficult time let me know that I had found the right church and that we belong here.

When people die, we are almost always left wondering why.  Often I think we will never know why until we also die and can see the big picture from God’s point of view.  But sometimes God gives us little clues which remind us that every single detail of His master plan is perfect and meaningful.  One of these details was the timing of the call from my mom to tell me about Dr. Harrington’s death.  I’d run into a fellow Texan friend from church the previous week who forwarded me an email about attending a weekly Tuesday gathering of church moms and kids at the pool.  I’d planned to take the girls, but after the call from my mom, I was bummed out, my mind was distracted, and I forgot about the pool outing until it was too late.  Just so happens that this was the same pool gathering where the two boys drowned.   I spoke to my friend who was there with her two children.  She said it is one of the most awful incidents she’s ever experienced in her life.  God works in mysterious ways, and while I obviously don’t think that the timing of Dr. Harrington’s death was planned solely for my benefit, the delivery of the news of his death actually spared me and my young, impressionable children from witnessing first-hand the drowning tragedy. 

I dare never to say that my faith is shaken by even these types of horrible events.  But I’d be lying to say that I don’t look up to Heaven and ask “why God, why?” when I can’t make sense of the world.  And I’d be lying to say that I have ever been given an answer.  No one other than our omniscient God could understand why a parent should have to bury their children or why a child has to die before he’s even graduated from high school.  This week left my soul feeling heavy and burdened with these types of unanswered questions.

And then there was the beach last night.  One of our favorite things to do on the weekends is hit the beach at sunset and enjoy the unbelievably warm ocean while the sun sinks slowly into the horizon.  There’s something about the salty water, the ebb and flow of the tides, and the painted sky which make me feel a stronger connection to God.  I love floating on my back with my ears underwater, muting out the world around me.  It is so peacefully quiet.  But the best part is that the tossing of the sand and shells underwater makes a crystally tingling sort of noise, as though there were tiny wind chimes under water playing the most beautiful music to my ears.  As I floated alone in the ocean last night, I couldn’t help but wonder if the boys who died also heard that sort of silence underwater before they lost consciousness.  It was a sad thought and so I blew out all my air and let myself sink under water down to the sand.  As I pushed myself back up to the surface, I felt something under my foot.  There are tons of seashells and coral on the beaches of Dubai and my kids and I love hunting for the biggest and the best.  Naturally, I always use my feet to pick up the ones I feel out in the water because the ocean usually hides the best shells from the other beach goers.  Most times it turns out to be a boring rock, but this time, you can imagine my surprise when my monkey toes pulled up a flat round dark brown shell about the size of my palm.  I nearly tossed it aside before my eyes recognized the unmistakable sign of a sand dollar!  

You may or may not know that the sand dollar has been adopted as Christian symbol because of 1) the center star - representing the star of Bethlehem; 2) the flower around the star - representing the Easter lily; 3) the five holes - 4 around edges representing piercings through Jesus’s hands and feet, and the center hole representing the piercing from the spear in His side; 4) the flower on the underside - representing the Christmas poinsettia; and 5) the five “doves” found inside the sand dollar - representing the doves of Peace.  I personally love sand dollars and even own one dipped in silver that I often wear on a chain around my neck as a symbol of my spirituality.  I’d been disappointed that with the wide selection of seashells still existing on the beaches here, we’d never found a sand dollar.  But today, of all days, was the day I found one.  It was as though God sent me a tangible reminder of the gift that is Jesus dying for us on the cross.  I stared at it in amazement as I had never seen a brown sand dollar.  Then something strange happened.....the thing started prickling and sucking on my hand!  I felt embarrassed at my own private realization that sand dollars are not just a sea shell, they are a living creature at some point!  I’d never seen a live sand dollar in my life!  And then I knew what God was really saying to me.  Jesus not only died, but He lives again!  And we who accept that will also live again.  

As I waved Ken and the girls over to witness this little miracle, I felt more, and more, and more in the sand under my feet.  We pulled up what seemed like hundreds!  It was as though each sand dollar represented a soul, lost to those of us here on earth, but alive again in Christ, on their peaceful way to spend eternity with our gracious God.  I wanted so badly to take one home (I’d been waiting for the day to add a sand dollar to my collection of seashells!)  But instead, I laid each one carefully back down on the ocean floor, pondering this special moment in my heart and allowing this enlightenment to engulf my spirit.