The Road to Damascus
See parting gifts from friends. The box is inscribed with my name in Arabic. The rosary is from Latakkia Monastery.
Most infamous in the Christian world for being a place of transformation and spiritual enlightenment, the road to the oldest city in the world held more than one insight for me. I find in my life that I rarely seek out an experience in order to gain insight, rather the insight is gained as I journey through the experience.
Almost as soon as I landed in Syria, I was struck by the historical significance of the place. The developmental history of Syriac, Aramaic, Babylonian, and other cultures and languages struck me as shaping the unique voice this nation has to offer. One Saturday, my team and I were fortunate enough to visit a cave which held markings from Greek, Roman, and other empires. This was a place that they all chose to leave their mark– it was like stepping into a history book, and having it come alive. To hear the nuns of the monastery in Maloula pray in Aramaic (this is the only place in the world where the language of Jesus is still spoken) was absolutely riveting. Interpretation wasn’t needed to understand the beauty of the words spoken. Similarly, hearing the stories of saints of old and new and hearing all that they had overcome for their faith was awe-inspiring. I gleaned multiple encounters with the Divine by being in churches that have held His presence for centuries, in walking through caves that have been a haven for saints, and in learning of Christian traditions that have held a people steadfast during tumultuous times. I was immediately blinded by the light of Christ in this way.
That extraordinary kindness can change the world.
Another moment of impact came through the people of Syria that I journeyed with. I have traveled a good number of places, and I have been blessed to have picked up friends in each place, but it holds a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because I have received such gifts in knowing beautiful, wonderful people. A curse, because at the end there’s a piece of myself that I leave behind with them. Due to the sensitive nature of my reason for being in Syria, these friends will remain anonymous for their protection. I was privileged to work with some astounding physicians, pharmacists, engineers, and assistants who are extremely talented in their fields and also incredible human beings. I saw diligence, faithfulness, commitment to excellence, kindness, and compassion in them in a remarkable way. In healthcare, I have seen great, compassionate care given, and I have also seen the opposite. When kindness that exceeds everyday demands is demonstrated, the impact ends up affecting more than just the beneficiaries. That extraordinary kindness impacts communities. That extraordinary kindness can change the world. And what a privilege it was to work in a program that is creating opportunities for people to demonstrate that sort of kindness to the world. And what an honor it was to see people seizing the opportunity and being the change they want to see in the world. Another bright light on this historic road.
Lastly, I would be remiss if I did not comment on the immense suffering and grief that the people of Syria have faced and are still facing daily. The threat of violence never leaves their door. Some are faced with malnutrition and others face a significant lack of medical care. The devastation can be overwhelming if you allow it to be. The need is so great, it can make any contributions feel very small. Kind of like when you see a small rain in a big drought. And that is exactly what happened at the end of my time there. It rained. The significance is hard to convey, but Syria is in one of the worst droughts in 40 years. It was the middle of summer, and it doesn’t rain in summer. The clouds were small. The rain was small. But it caused everyone to go outdoors, dance in it, and be joyous. And that was what the work felt like to me: a small rain in a big drought, but also an opportunity to give people a moment of joy.
Ring pictured is in the Syriac language which is a language which has been spoken since the time of Christ.The ring says “Because you are with me” in reference to Psalm 23:4. The necklace pictured was a parting gift from friends. It says Matthew 5:16 on the silver plate.
As I sit reflecting on what this experience means to me, so many thoughts and emotions bubble up. There’s gratitude for rest after the long days when I was there. There’s sadness for those that were left behind that I could not bring with me. There’s anticipation for starting the next level of my education. And I feel grief that I handed over work that I won’t get to see completed. But insights like those I have explained here, ground me. They give me boldness and confidence to settle into. Syria is so much more than bombed-out buildings and war-torn places. Syria is a place of rich historical significance with diversities who cherish their heritage and have hope for their future. My hope and prayer for the people of Syria is that a rain of blessing descends on them like never before, that there is continuous feasting in place of famine, and that there is safety and peace rooted in love for all.