It was a perfect day to be outside. The Arizona sun was shining within the expanse of a beautiful blue sky and the temperatures hovered around the seventies. Every now and then we get to be privy to opportunities that can and are intended to change our lives. This would be one of those days.
Just a few days before, I received a phone call from my dad and he asked me if he could take me somewhere. I asked where and he said it was a surprise. I tried to get him to divulge the whereabouts and he wouldn't budge. He said I would just have to wait and see. I am not really fond of the whole surprise thing, but it wasn't up to me.
So the day arrived. Dad was very prompt and picked me up when he said he would. We chatted a little along the way, but really not much was said. I pondered to myself where he could be taking me. We probably drove close to an hour between where we both lived to the far west side of town. Dad slowed down and as I looked I noticed we were pulling into a cemetery. What? I couldn't believe this was it! I think truthfully I had hoped for a little more. Again I probed and he just drove around until he got to the spot he intended. We got out and walked over to a specific area where many tombstones lay close to one another.
I asked him why he brought me all the way across town to a cemetery. He proceeded to ask me if I wanted to hear a story that to him, was the most Christian story he had ever been told. I was all ears then, because let's just say my father and I don't see totally eye to eye when it comes to spiritual things.
He asked me if I noticed anything unusual about the tombstones. I looked and said yes. I noticed that there was a plot with imbedded tombstones that were all facing east. However, along side of them, lined up perpendicular, were upright tombstones with crosses on them. As I looked at them I realized these tombstones had names of Muslim individuals, even those I had personally known. Now my curiosity had more than piqued. You see my father was once married to a Muslim lady named Amina. She and her family were very close and they got together often. Many times when my sisters and I would go to see our dad, we would attend these family gatherings. I had been privileged to get to know this family and love them. As a believer myself, my heart was very excited to see all the crosses on these tombstones.
Amina's brother Robert, even though he was a Muslim, married a Christian Baptist lady. He agreed to attend church with his wife, although he had to sit on the front row. The pastor was right in front of him. Robert recited his own Islamic prayers as the pastor preached. Now I have known many pastors personally in my day and yet I can't imagine any of them being willing to do what this pastor did. Robert prayed his Islamic prayers loud enough for him to hear and the pastor did nothing! He allowed this man to go on week after week and never said a word to him, but loved him as he loved all who attended. This action caught Robert so off guard, that he made a decision to accept Jesus Christ as his own personal Lord and Savior. He had been so touched by the pastor's unconditional love for him; a type of love that he had never experienced before, that he made a radical decision that would forever change his life and the generations to follow. As a result of this action, Robert became a true lover of Jesus. By the time I met the man as a junior high girl, full of herself, I might add, it was evident my Uncle Bob was a man who lived for Jesus. He hadn't raised his children as he had been raised, but they were raised as Christians. The light and love of Christ was in this family.
In time, Uncle Bob's conversion led to others in his family accepting the gift of Christ's salvation as well. I now stood before these perpendicular tombstones marveling at how the life of one man can impact generations. This precious pastor probably never had the privilege to stand where I stood that day and understand how his decision to accept my Uncle Bob, for who he was, had forever changed the course of history. I know that someday he will know, but for now hopefully my life and the lives of those privy to this story will love as he loved. By the way, my stepmom died young of MS and her tombstone also bears a cross.
