Days of Conflict

After launching to the Middle East, we quickly bonded with our fellow laborers, the Coals and the Rodriguezes. Together with a couple of foreign university students who were believers, and an occasional curious local friend, we met at each other’s homes for Sabbath worship and fellowship. That is, until a conflict led the Coals to choose to work separately. The sense of brokenness was inescapable, and for many months we gathered on Sabbath feeling compromised. If we could not get along with the few fellow believers we had, how could we accurately represent the relational healing found in the gospel?

Meeting Faruk

During this time a man contacted us after searching for local Adventists. Faruk was a short, sturdy, gregarious man with a loud voice and a quick wit. He spoke English and quickly made himself comfortable with our little group. He had many questions and eagerly accepted the answers offered in Scripture. As I had become aware of the walls of prejudice just under the veneer of warmth in this country, speaking with Faruk was like coming into a banquet after wandering in the dark. After a long evening sharing biblical truth with him and his wife, I said to a friend, “I now understand why Jesus said, ‘It is My food and drink to do the will of My Father’ [see John 4:34].” I felt as if I could burst with joy!

Besides asking questions and accepting biblical answers, Faruk wasn’t afraid to share with others what he was learning. One evening after taking Jacob fishing, Faruk took him to his village, and they sat in the tea garden talking with local men about matters of faith. Faruk was bold and capable. On the way home he said to Jacob, “You’re Moses, and I’m like Aaron!”

One Sabbath evening after worship, Faruk bellowed, “Let’s all go to the beach tomorrow!” He was the ultimate “fun dad” who planned things at the last minute, got everyone on board, and brought lots of snacks. Separated from his wife, allegedly at the behest of her family, Faruk continued to meet with her secretly, and she joined us as well. He confessed to us that he had made the mistake of striking her once, and that was why her family forced her to leave him.

A Day at the Beach Turns Dark

We had a fun time at the beach, but on the way home Faruk got into a heated debate with his wife. In the middle of traffic he grabbed the keys from the ignition and took off down the road. Jacob and another friend followed him and talked him down, but the conflict erupted again farther down the road, and another intervention was necessary.

The joy we had experienced sharing the gospel was replaced by heaviness as we both received a flood of angry, all-capitals texts.

Faruk’s wife talked to me while the men spoke. “He’s a maniac!” she said, fear showing in her eyes. She later texted me, apologizing for the scene.

“You don’t have to apologize,” I encouraged her. “It’s not your fault. Today we saw Faruk’s true nature. It is the habit of narcissists to intimidate and make other people feel responsible.”

A few days later Faruk sent Jacob a photo of himself with his wife on a camping trip. Along with it was a screenshot of my text and an angry rant about how unchristian it was of me to call him a narcissist. The joy we had experienced sharing the gospel was replaced by heaviness as we both received a flood of angry, all-capitals texts. Had I been wrong? Had I harmed the work? We committed this lost man into God’s hands and prayed for protection. I was at peace, having learned a lesson, but also confident that the eruption was only a symptom of something far beyond my ability to either damage or repair.

A Difficult Goodbye

Faruk maintained contact with our coworker, Brother Rodriguez, continuing to call himself an Adventist and expressing interest in connecting with other believers.

“Be careful,” we encouraged Brother Rodriquez. “We are just developing the DNA of our church here, and we cannot be a group that protects abusers. Any connections made for Faruk should be done with a warning about his record. He will likely leave a wake of damage, and you are responsible if you do not tell them what you know.”

Several months later Brother Rodriguez received a simple message from Faruk. “I have decided to return to Islam,” he said.

God Heals Our Team

The brokenness in our relationship with our teammates, the Coals, compounded the sense of brokenness from this experience. What would it be like to bring in new believers, only for them to discover that there were believers up the street with whom we didn’t associate? We prayed daily, resisted bitterness, and kept our hearts ready for resolution should it ever become possible.

One day there was a knock at our door, and we opened it to find our disillusioned teammate. After many months God worked a miracle, turning hurt and anger into repentance and forgiveness. He healed the rift between us and the Coals, bringing us into deeper connection than otherwise would have been possible. The gospel of relational healing had come to life in our team, and we were more eager than ever to see it become real to our local friends and neighbors!