Fresh Perspective

  The guys are bowling tonight, and I have intentionally stayed home to try and find words to describe what is going on in this season of our lives.  Afraid that too many weeks have slipped by, where I have failed to pen about life in the Middle East, during a Revolution. Many of you wonder what living in a Revolution is really like, as you glimpse snitches and snatches of news from the media and question our safety and/or our sanity.  For the most part we can live life mostly unaware, up on our peaceful hill that looks upon the city of Beirut.  Fortunately, for the most part the protesting has been persistently pleasant and not violent.  How we feel it is when the banks closed for the better part of a total of three weeks and now American dollars are scares and highly valued (but 4 months ago, they were common, and we were even paid in them).  This has affected all the trading and in turn has impacted the prices, causing food to significantly rise in price.  Small businesses are clo

Saturday at 2 p.m. found friends and I at a meal put on for us by some dear Iraqi refugees.  The table was loaded with stuffed onions, stuffed eggplant, spring rolls, amazing colorful and seasoned rice, hummus, and much more.  Their joy.  Their hospitality.  Their laughter.  Their generosity.  Their hope.  Left me feeling both full and hungry.  Full at their example.  Hungry in my need to learn from them. In complete contrast, today found me in a Syrian refugee home.  Five girls.  One son who was tragically killed in an accident a year ago.  We were in their “new” home, which they moved into, literally in the middle of last night, because they could not afford the rent in the last place.  The girls were chattering away to me about how much better this place was because it was so much bigger, and the rent was cheaper.  I saw nothing “better”.  I saw only dark broken steps leading up into their apartment.  Drab dingy walls, that needed fresh paint, twenty years ago.  The mother shows m