Ahlan!

These came out this week for Ahlan!  Shot in the neighborhood of Satwa by Murrindie Frew, with styling by Sam Kientsch, and makeup by Zahra Kadom.

Infidelity

“Talking only makes me feel more alone,”
you said once in the car outside the clinic.
Two years later, you spoke the same sentence
word for word one night after friends had gone.
Within a month, you’d erased yourself    . . .
Erased? “To absent oneself,” I found scribbled on
a wrapper a year later    . . .

Now sunlight and tree
shadow rush over the windshield of  the car:
I’m talking with my new wife — then gone, absented.
“Sometimes I feel almost too much joy,”
you wrote from the balcony of  your cheap
hotel in Paris. “What are you thinking?” she asks.
Light shutters across us. Wherever you are
in me I’m there, though it’s not what you wanted.

~Infidelity, Philip White

Trust in God and Yourself

“You see now how the case stands—do you not?” he continued.  “After a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have found you.  You are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel.  I am bound to you with a strong attachment.  I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

“It was because I felt and knew this, that I resolved to marry you.  To tell me that I had already a wife is empty mockery: you know now that I had but a hideous demon.  I was wrong to attempt to deceive you; but I feared a stubbornness that exists in your character.  I feared early instilled prejudice: I wanted to have you safe before hazarding confidences.  This was cowardly: I should have appealed to your nobleness and magnanimity at first, as I do now—opened to you plainly my life of agony—described to you my hunger and thirst after a higher and worthier existence—shown to you, not my resolution (that word is weak), but my resistless bent to love faithfully and well, where I am faithfully and well loved in return.  Then I should have asked you to accept my pledge of fidelity and to give me yours.  Jane—give it me now.”

A pause.

“Why are you silent, Jane?”

I was experiencing an ordeal: a hand of fiery iron grasped my vitals.  Terrible moment: full of struggle, blackness, burning!  Not a human being that ever lived could wish to be loved better than I was loved; and him who thus loved me I absolutely worshipped: and I must renounce love and idol.  One drear word comprised my intolerable duty—“Depart!”

“Jane, you understand what I want of you?  Just this promise—‘I will be yours, Mr. Rochester.’”

“Mr. Rochester, I will not be yours.”

Another long silence.

“Jane!” recommenced he, with a gentleness that broke me down with grief, and turned me stone-cold with ominous terror—for this still voice was the pant of a lion rising—“Jane, do you mean to go one way in the world, and to let me go another?”

“I do.”

“Jane” (bending towards and embracing me), “do you mean it now?”

“I do.”

“And now?” softly kissing my forehead and cheek.

“I do,” extricating myself from restraint rapidly and completely.

“Oh, Jane, this is bitter!  This—this is wicked.  It would not be wicked to love me.”

“It would to obey you.”

A wild look raised his brows—crossed his features: he rose; but he forebore yet.  I laid my hand on the back of a chair for support: I shook, I feared—but I resolved.

“One instant, Jane.  Give one glance to my horrible life when you are gone.  All happiness will be torn away with you.  What then is left?  For a wife I have but the maniac upstairs: as well might you refer me to some corpse in yonder churchyard.  What shall I do, Jane?  Where turn for a companion and for some hope?”

“Do as I do: trust in God and yourself.  Believe in heaven.  Hope to meet again there.”

“Then you will not yield?”

“No.”

“Then you condemn me to live wretched and to die accursed?”  His voice rose.

“I advise you to live sinless, and I wish you to die tranquil.”

“Then you snatch love and innocence from me?  You fling me back on lust for a passion—vice for an occupation?”

“Mr. Rochester, I no more assign this fate to you than I grasp at it for myself.  We were born to strive and endure—you as well as I: do so.  You will forget me before I forget you.”

“You make me a liar by such language: you sully my honour.  I declared I could not change: you tell me to my face I shall change soon.  And what a distortion in your judgment, what a perversity in your ideas, is proved by your conduct!  Is it better to drive a fellow-creature to despair than to transgress a mere human law, no man being injured by the breach? for you have neither relatives nor acquaintances whom you need fear to offend by living with me?”

This was true: and while he spoke my very conscience and reason turned traitors against me, and charged me with crime in resisting him.  They spoke almost as loud as Feeling: and that clamoured wildly.  “Oh, comply!” it said.  “Think of his misery; think of his danger—look at his state when left alone; remember his headlong nature; consider the recklessness following on despair—soothe him; save him; love him; tell him you love him and will be his.  Who in the world cares for you? or who will be injured by what you do?”

Still indomitable was the reply—“I care for myself.  The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself.  I will keep the law given by God; sanctioned by man.  I will hold to the principles received by me when I was sane, and not mad—as I am now.  Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour; stringent are they; inviolate they shall be.  If at my individual convenience I might break them, what would be their worth?  They have a worth—so I have always believed; and if I cannot believe it now, it is because I am insane—quite insane: with my veins running fire, and my heart beating faster than I can count its throbs.  Preconceived opinions, foregone determinations, are all I have at this hour to stand by: there I plant my foot.”

~Jane Eyre to Mr. Rochester in Charlotte Bronte's classic, Jane Eyre

I love love love the Bronte sisters.  I count Wuthering Heights as one of my all-time favorite novels.  Who could ever forget Catherine Earnshaw's famous 'I am Heathcliff!' speech:

My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it.—My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.

I love Jane Eyre as well ("Reader, I married him.")  The highlighted passage above is an inspiration.  Poor Jane has been alone her whole life, an orphan, and when she finally meets a man whom she loves and who loves her in return, she learns that he's already married to a madwoman in the attic.  What's incredible, though, is that she values herself enough to walk away.  She refuses to compromise on what she believes to be true.  It paints an incredible picture.  She knows who she is, she knows her worth, and she trusts in God as her salvation.  I love it.  Years ago I wrote a post on what we can learn from classic literature, and this book is no exception.  I wish I had half the resolve, gumption, and faith that Jane has.

Charlotte Bronte, by the way, was the only sister to achieve literary success (many people thought the book was trashy, but sales were high) during her lifetime.  She wrote most of Jane Eyre in a frenzied three week time period.  Unfortunately, she watched her mother and all five of her siblings die before her.  She died at the age of 38, shortly after getting married, due to complications related to pregnancy.

Five Things I'm Thankful For Friday

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

~Mr. Beaver responding to Lucy's question as to whether Aslan is safe in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis 

This week I'm thankful for:

1. Prayer.  Life isn't always so rosy, but I have a whole host of people praying for me (as well at the Holy Spirit-- Romans 8:26) which is a great comfort.  I've also heard it said that we do not pray to change God, but to change ourselves, and I can definitely see this in my own life as I see the perspective of my heart changing after time in prayer.  Keep it up, friends-- I'll take all the prayers you care to send my way!  (If you're reading this now, won't you stop and say a prayer for me?)

2. Women.  It's been a girly sort of week.  Our head of household is out of town this week (he's in the US for a conference), so it's just us girls around the villa (unless you count Winston, the dachshund).  On Monday night, instead of our regular small group, just the women got together to eat salad and pray for one another.  It was a wonderful time of sharing and comfort.  I also flew to Kuwait with two lovely women (whom I just met, but with whom I am now tentatively planning a trip to Kerala, India), and just today passed the afternoon and evening in the company of three lovely ladies.  Female companionship is wonderful, and I'm blessed to have found it here.

3. Work.  One of the perks of my job is getting to travel to new places.  This week, I went to Kuwait City to help open the flagship Tiffany and Co at the Avenues Mall.  I am thankful for the work, the travel, and the lovely people I met along the way. 

That's me on the far left!

4. Being Fed. When I thought of this, I was thinking of the joys of getting to eat-- and especially for free (money's tight these days, but I got fed on my jobs this week, and friends have treated me as well).  I'm am thankful for the little things-- having a full tummy, a bed to sleep in, and a roof over my head.  But, after typing this, I realized that I'm being fed spiritually, too.  Earlier in the week, I watched the Together for the Gospel Conference live on the web as friends of mine spoke in Orlando, Florida.  I've also been more diligent about reading my Bible and praying, and it feels good to be growing in my love for and knowledge of God.

5. God's Grace. It's usually only in hindsight that I can see God working in my life-- how he cares for me, and how he spares me from things.  Once again, I am humbled by His grace and goodness.  Through many dangers, toils, and snares I have already come; 'tis grace that brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home (John Newton, 1725-1807).

I just watched this 2-minute testimony from last year's Together for the Gospel Conference and found it encouraging.  I hope you do, too.  I think the talks from this year's conference should be up on the Together for the Gospel website soon.  I'm looking forward to hearing Tim Keller's talk as well as those of some of the other speakers.

Binds to Himself a Joy

He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy
He who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sunrise.

~Eternity, William Blake

The Gospel cannot be preached and heard enough...

"The Gospel cannot be preached and heard enough, for it cannot be grasped well enough..."

~Martin Luther 

Amen.  I pray God would remind me daily of the Gospel and that it's message would never be far from my heart.

5 Things I'm Thankful For Friday

This week I'm thankful for:

1. Easter Sunday service on the week. I'm far from home, but still got to spend Easter with family (my Church family). We gathered at sunrise, sang worship songs, and listened to a sermon about Jesus's resurrection. We also heard a couple of people give their testimony, and afterwards they were baptized in the Arabian Gulf. It was pretty powerful. After the service, we broke bread together and had a picnic on the beach.

2. Generous friends. I am always humbled by the generosity of others, and this week I've been on the receiving end of several acts of generosity. Multiple friends have treated me to meals, I've been given rides, people have texted me to check in on me... It's been great and I hope that someday soon I'm in the position to repay such generosity.

3. Work. I managed to snag a couple of jobs this week- one I posted pictures from- and the other was for a website. I am firmly convinced that God brought me here for other purposes than work, but, I do still need to make a living.

4. Lingering and languorous Fridays. Friday might just be my favorite day of the week here. Weekends in the Middle East are Fridays and Saturdays and Fridays are the holy days so we have church on Friday mornings. It's a great way to kick off the weekend. After church (and 'Friday' school where I'm learning about church history), a group of us go out for lunch, which gives way to late afternoons in coffee shops. It's not uncommon for me to get home from 'church' after midnight on Friday, having spent the whole day in fellowship with my Christian friends. I truly treasure these days.

5. The right to gather as Christians and have services and Bible studies. I don't take it for granted that here in the Middle East I'm allowed to own a Bible, pray in public, and attend religious services. It's a privilege that is not afforded to all Christians throughout he world, and many continue to meet even when it's not safe to do so. I'm thankful that it's not a daily reality here, although that might change one day.

Shooting

Two snapshots from a shoot I did on Tuesday for Ahlan! magazine... I honestly want to post more frequently... It just doesn't seem to take high priority in my day.