My Snapshot of the Zabbaleen: A Tribute to Cairo's Garbage Collectors

"They looked to Him and were radiant, and their faces were not ashamed."

- Psalm 34: 5

I want to share with you one of my most precious memories. It is the day I learned heaven rejoices at the sound of a child’s laughter.

It was during my first trip to the Middle East.  We were in Egypt for 10 days, mainly visiting friends in Alexandria, but we decided to tag a couple of days in Cairo to the end of our trip. On this particular day, we made plans to visit Cairo’s Garbage City.  I wasn’t feeling well, but this place had captured my interest more strongly than the pyramids, so I gathered my strength and joined my friends for what would prove to be a memorable day. 

Although our goal was to hang out with the locals, we started our day as tourists. A friend took us to the Cave Church that Garbage City is known for, Sama’ans Church, which lies at the base of a mountain said to have been moved by faith in the 10^th century.  The mountain came first, then the Zabbaleen (Garbage Collectors).  While it was nice to visit the Sama’ans Church and learn the history of the mountain, our purpose in going was to meet the people, but we were running out of time. And yet, we soon discovered time wasn’t an issue at all.

Earlier that day, our friend offered to spend the morning showing us Garbage City, after which he would return to work for the day.  Morning quickly became afternoon and we headed back through the village and into the heart of Cairo, but we weren’t finished. As we drove past the Zabbaleen, we knew we had to stop. We convinced our friend to give us 5 minutes and then climbed out the car, 1 Egyptian and 5 foreigners. We were a sight to behold for more reasons than one. We drew a crowd, not simply because we were a group of foreigners, but also because we began to pray for the sick and injured and they were healed. People came from their houses dragging their kids and other family members to receive prayer. Some were sick and others just wanted a blessing. The faith of the Zabbaleen to receive a gift from God was strong, and it was evident that they wanted the good gifts our Heavenly Father had to offer.

As I stood among the crowd, I felt a tug at my shirt. Looking down, there was a small boy with a pained expression on his face. I knew he needed prayer, but I wasn’t sure what for. He didn’t speak English and I didn’t have a translator, but he pointed to his finger. So I prayed and asked the Holy Spirit to heal the need though I was ignorant of the exact condition. After a few seconds, I understood that his finger was broken and he was unable to bend it. I gently rubbed my finger across his and prayed for healing. Seconds later, I made a bending motion with my hand to encourage him to try to bend his finger. He shook his head. I prayed a little while longer and repeated the gesture. Again, he shook his head. I prayed again and waited for direction from the Holy Spirit. Then once again, I opened and closed my hand and gestured for him to do the same. This time, he repeated the motion with no problem.  When he saw that his finger was healed, his face lit up. Following each miracle, we pointed to the sky and said Jesus in Arabic, then praised Him. Before I could do this, the little boy took off running after a truck. As he ran, the sound of his laughter flowed to my ears and filled my heart. I watched him jump on the back of the truck and foolishly warned him to be careful. He was a boy, and his joy had returned.

In that moment, as his laughter filled the air, I noticed something shift around us. The day was brighter and light seemed to fill the village. I lost awareness of the garbage piled up in the streets and turned my gaze from the sky to the faces of the people. It was like the heavens had opened and the Father was smiling down on us, and in response, hoped filled all of our hearts as we stood in the streets. Our countenances changed, and I felt heaven rejoice.

As we left that day, I was amazed, not just at God’s awesome power, but at the hearts of the people. The city was founded on a miracle, and the faith of the Zabbaleen is an example of how faith begets faith. They are a people familiar with miracles, but still hungry for a touch of God. When I think of the Zabbaleen, I remember the joy among the garbage; I remember how they welcomed us into their homes; I remember the beauty of their hearts and that they are precious in the Father’s eyes. They live among the garbage and God is restoring their hope for something more. And as their hope is being restored, I pray that their hunger would continue to grow as their eyes shift from God’s hand to His heart.

Redemption is a Stained Glass Window

Redemption is a stained glass window.

My heart was seemingly complete in its own way

Without need of another, without reliance or trust

It was empty and alone, and yet the tranquil blue hue

Translated light into beautiful brokenness.

My heart, a whole piece of glass that was broken.

But then, it was shattered.

Failure and disappointment shattered this fragile heart.

I tried reliance, I tried trust, but hope in others failed me.

This shattered heart finally reflected it’s true state

Brokenness

My Redeemer Lives

Redemption is a stained glass window.

He took the shattered pieces of my heart

And fashioned them together with that of others.

Reds, Purples, Yellows, and Greens

Each heart, a color of it’s own.

Each heart broken in its wholeness.

But when it shatters, our Redeemer brings wholeness.

Each piece of a shattered heart fitted to the piece of another

Until the reds, purples, yellows, and greens tell a story of their own:

The redemption of our Savior.

In His light, we are found

Emitting the colors of redemption, hope, and love.

Wholeness is found in this stained glass window.  

Many Waters Cannot Quench Love

If only we all knew and understood how true a marriage commitment is and how precious the gift of love in friendship. This is Ian and Larissa's story from DesiringGod.com. I hope it blesses you as much as it has me.

 

"Intro: Letter from John Piper

“You will never regret loving this much.”

John was there, watching our wedding, just a few months after his dear wife had passed. She lived with cancer for too many years, and for each day in each year, John was her lover and her caregiver. He knew what we were getting into that day. He knew the costs. I looked at him sitting on the old, wooden benches, without her next to him. The two little wooden birds that he whittled sat on our cake, on top of his love inscription. And his spoken words after meant so much, reminding me that love like this is unable to produce regret.

Unlike John, and many couples, we didnʼt face sickness when we were grandparents. We started there. And it was severe.

The Heart of Man

Ian and I had planned to get married as soon as we graduated from college in December of 2006. But instead, everything was halted with his brain injury, which he received on September 30 of that year in a car accident. And so instead of getting married when we were young and healthy and naive, we waited four years and got married when he was sick, and disabled and we were still grieving.

The decision to get married was one of the hardest but simplest decisions weʼll face. Iʼve heard that choosing marriage for anyone can raise doubts and fears. I think a disability takes those normal fears, and multiplies them.

Marrying Ian meant that I was signing on to things that I donʼt think I ever wouldʼve chosen for myself — working my whole life, having a husband who canʼt be left alone, managing his caregivers, remembering to get the oil changed, advocating for medical care, balancing checkbooks, and on. The practical costs felt huge, and those didnʼt even touch on the emotional and spiritual battles that I would face.

But in light of all the practicals, and emotionals, it was so very simple: we love each other. And we love God. And we believe He is a sovereign and loving God who rules all things.

Our pastor who married us, Mark Altrogge, was with us on the day that our marriage was approved by a local judge. Because of Ian’s condition, the courts had to decide that it was in his best interest to be married. Mark said that he’ll never forget the words of the judge who approved our marriage license: “You two exemplify what love is all about. I believe that marriage will not only benefit you both, but our community and hope that everyone in this city could see your love for one another.”

We don’t know if that judge loved Jesus, but I think that he saw Jesus’ love that day in us. It was a glimpse to us of the glory that God would bring forth in our marriage. Along with us, Mark’s confidence in our marriage was faith in the One who promised to never leave us or forsake us.

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

I still donʼt think that Ian would have ever left me if the role had been reversed. And walking away from my best friend was never truly an option.

Because of that, a warm, summer evening on 8/28 found us married under my parentsʼ trees in the mountains.

Sorrowful Yet Always Rejoicing

And even though we chose marriage, we chose it sadly. Sorrow has been a permanent resident in our 20s. It feels like the rest of the world uses these years for really fun things. But in our 20s, we have watched our future crash with him in that white station wagon and we now live with two versions of Ian. Weʼve watched all of our friends get married, and have health. Iʼve watched as my girlfriends and sisters found husbands who could dance with them at their weddings and drive them to church on Sunday morning. Weʼve watched our dad fight and be taken by brain cancer, only to see life keep marching on.

Fortunately, our hope is that weʼve also watched all of these alongside Jesus, who is our own man of sorrows, acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53:3). So we have not walked it alone.

A Beautiful Covenant

“Let not steadfast love and faithfulness forsake you; bind them around your neck; write them on the tablet of your heart" (Proverbs 3:3).

We know that we have made a covenant to each other, just as Christ made to the church. The church that He made that covenant with is so imperfect, and sorrowful, and disabled. Just like our marriage. This church, and this marriage, are hemmed in by Jesus and eagerly long heaven. He is their author and sustainer."

 

He Is Faithful to My Heart Part 5 - The Promise Fulfilled

 

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when the desire comes, it is a tree of life.” Proverbs 12:13 

Life with God is one of hope.  Hebrews 11:1 says, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” In this definition of faith, we see faith as the substance of hope.  It is the undying conviction of an eager expectation we hold fast to. Our faith is in God Himself, and our hope is in Him who promises the revelation of His Christ and His kingdom. We hope in God to fulfill the promises He sets before us. He promises the earthly manifestation of the testimony of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. He promises the imminent return of the Christ and our ultimate bodily resurrection and glorification. He promises the salvation of the earth and the nations therein. He promises the eternal increase of the government of God.  Indeed, there are many great promises within the word of God, and we, in hope, are sure of their future fulfillment. It is this hope that anchors us to His word and develops in us the faith to see these promises fulfilled.  

Just as we hope in the promise of the coming kingdom of Christ to be glorified in all the earth, we hope in promises that God gives us daily.  However it seems that our hope in these intimate promises falter more quickly than our hope in the promise of His manifestation in the earth. We are waiting patiently, yet eagerly, for the return of the Christ, and we are steadfast in this patience. But we often fumble the promises made directly to our hearts of the goodness our Heavenly Father desires to bestow upon us. We are unfaithful with them. Abraham held to the faith in the promise of God for a son of Sarah's womb.  He hoped in the Name of the LORD, and he was rewarded for patiently enduring.  We must learn to do the same if we are to obtain the reward of each intimate promise Abba gives.  Yes, they are often slow to come, but they always come on time.  There is much to be gained in practicing this patience, but much can be lost in the waiting if we fail to maintain our hope.  The beauty of the promises of God is in the process as well as the obtainment. Don’t miss this beauty in despair. Yes, hope deferred does make the heart grow sick, but even waiting can draw us into the beauty of His heart.  And, when the promise comes, life bursts forth within our own hearts.  We are given a double blessing in this: a glimpse of His glorious beauty and a tree of life abounding within us.  The process is important for this double portion blessing, and how wonderful it is to obtain the desire, but during the process, remember the faithfulness of God. Lean on Him; gaze on His beauty; know Him.  He is preparing you for the promise.  Do not lose hope and heart, but know that He is faithful in preparing your heart for the gift, just as He is faithful in bringing the gift.  He is your God and your Father who loves you and delights in giving you good gifts. Receive them with a heart of faith and hope, knowing that He is faithful to your heart both in making the promise and fulfilling it. 

“Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.” – Hebrews 10:23