I DARED TO CALL HIM FATHER
Chapter 11. Winds of Change
The weaning process began one Sunday a few weeks later, during our regular prayer meeting thought that both the Olds and the Mitchells seemed unusually somber that evening.
"What's wrong?" I asked as we walked into the Olds' drawing room . Ken leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling
"Marie and I are leaving on a year's furlough," he said abruptly.
My first reaction was panic at the thought of abandonment. What would I ever do without the Olds! Of course I would still have the Mitchells, but I depended on both families, together to be my support. The Mitchells had brought me into my first contact with Jesus; the olds had walked closely with me. Was this just a beginning? How long before I lost both families?
Marie must have read my heart, for she stepped over an d took my hand. Tears filled her eyes as she spoke.
"My dear," Marie said, " you must realize that it willalways be this way Those we love will always be leaving. Only Jesus stays with you forever."
Ken now joined his wife at my side.
"There's another thing, Bilquis," Ken said. "You can be sure the Lord never leads vou out of a safe situation unless He has a purpose. Because of that, you can start rejoicing now, even in the midst of the hurt."
We had only a few weeks more together, the Olds, the Mitchells and I. The departure date grew closer, carrying with it a sense of doom. We all tried to be faith -filled about the vacuum that would be created by Ken and Marie's leaving but it was play -acting, not at all real.
It was a sad day when the Mitchells and I and others in our small Christian group went to the olds' house -for a god 'bye send- of. we did our best even at this last moment to make it a cele- bration, but our hearts" were heavy We tried to $ the moment as a change not to' "let them go" but to "send them out."
It was a brave show. But in our hearts, as we saw the Olds' heavily-loaded automobile lumber offtoward the Grand Trunk Road, it seemed to us all that life could never again be as rich.
As I drove back to my own home that day I had a strange sensation of being on my own now alone in a hostile community, How ridiculous. The Mitchells were still in Wah, after all!l
The weaning process took a new and unexpected turn late one morning, some months after the Olds left, when Dr. Daniel Baksh phoned me. He sad he and Dr. Stanley Mooneyham, repre senting a group called Worild vision, with headquarters in California, U.S.A, would like to visit me. I had never heard of this organization but my doors were open to anyone, even people whc were curious to see what a Muslim-tured-Christian looked like.
Both arrived a few days later. When we finished dinner, Dr. Mooneyham began to speak and it was clear that he was no curiosity-seeker. He was interested in my conversion, all right, but I sensed that he would have been equally interested in the conversion of my gardener. As we sipped tea, he came to the point.
"Willyou come to Sin gapore, Madame Sheikh," Dr. Mooneyham asked, "to testify for the Lord?" "Singapore?"
"Billy Graham is arranging a large conference there called Christ Seeks Asia. It will be for Asian Christians of all kinds- Indonesians, Japanese, Indians, Koreans, Chinese, Pakistanis. Your testimony will be an inspiration to us."
It didn't sound right. I had enough to do right there in Wah without taking off for other parts of the world
"Well," I said, "I'll pray about it."
"Please do! S Mooneyham said andthen shortly he bid me good-bye.
Long after Dr. Mooneyham left, I sat in the drawin g room thinking and praying, as I had promised, about the invitation. One side of me said that I should take advantage of the oppor tunity. Another side of me said I should not even think of it.
And then an idea occurred to me
My passport. Of course. It was just about to expire. It would have to be renewed ifI were to go to Singapore . At that time in Pakistan there was much red tape involving passports. The situ- ation was impossible. Some people sent their passports in for renewal and never got them back.
Why not let this situation act as a voice for the Lord? If He wanted me to go, Hie would take care of this passport detail.
That very afternoon I flled out the necessary information and posted the passport to the proper o fficials. As I slipped it in the mailbox I had very little doubt that this would be my No" to the Singapore trip.
A week later an official-looking government envelope came in the mail.
Hmm,"I smiled, "this will be the first step in getting my renewal, some more forms to fill out. And so it wil go on for months."
I opened the envelope.
There, all renewed and officially stamped, was my passport.
So it was, a few months later, that I said good-bye to five-year-old Mahmud, leaving him with Tooni and drove down to Lahore. There I had a short visit with my son, Khalid, before going on to Karachi where I would board the jet for Singapore. Although it was now 1968 and a year and é half had passed since the Lord met me, Khalid was much like the rest of my family, now showing little interest in my discovery I suspected that he considered me, at 55, embarked on a strange kind of trip. ButIwas to be respected as his mother, andwe had an enjoyable visit.
Later as I boarded the jet in Karachi and considered the project I was just now undertaking, ] had the impression that Khalid was right. What in the world was I doing on this airplane headed of Christians aboard and I wasn't too sure I liked what I saw. L for Singapore! There were a Iot shrank from their exuberance. They were singing Gospel songs, shouting back and forth to each other across the aisles, sometimes raising their hands and crying, " Praise the Lord!" I was em barrassed, I found myself muttering that if this was what it meant to travel in Christian circles, I wasn't interested.
What made the moment worse was that, for reasons that I could not define, I felt this trip held a personal significance beyond the conference in Singapore It was as if the trip were pro- phetic, foretelling the type oflife ] would be called upon to lead.
"Oh no, Lord," I said to myself. You must be playing with me!" Prophetic in what sense? That I was going to have to spend a lot of time among extroverts, traveling in jet airplanes? Back ir Wah Iwas just getting comfortable in my role as a Christian, but that was in a provincial village There I was in control, at least. Christianity to me was a very private iov to be shared on my owi terms. I definitely did not like the ideca of paradin g myself before hundreds, perhaps thousands, of strangers.
As the plane took offI! stared out of the window, watching Pakistan fall away below me into the mist. Even though Iknew that I would be coming back within just a few days, something warned me that in a very real sense this was a beginning, Although I would return to my home in the physical sense, in another sense I would never come 'back.
This- this group of Christians on an airplane--was my home now.
What could I possibly mean by that! The idea appalled me.
Fom the singapore ? airport we went straight to the conference hally where the meetings were already in progress.
And suddenly, quite to my surprise, I found that I was having a very different reaction to this group of asembled Christians.
There were thousands of men an d women in the conference hall, the largest number of Chris tan people I had ever seen gathered in one place. As I walked into the hall everyone was singing "How Great Thou Art." I felt the familiar Presence of God's Spirit and had never known it to be so palpitating, Almost instantly I wanted to cry, not out of sadness but out of joy. Never before had I seen such a large crowd of people praising the Lord. I could hardily grasp it. So many people, from so manv countries! Different races, different dress! Galleries of praising Christians seeming to rise forever.
Now this was different! Not at all like the group of people on the airplane. I then realized what I had been experiencing on the plane. Every thing was suddenly very clear Those people on the etliner had been shy, nervous, perhaps even afraid. Afraid ofthe newness, afraid of flying They were no more moving in the Spirit at that time than was when scolded one of the servants or reacted violently to an uncle when he tried to pressure me back into Islam. The problem had been their language. Christian talk fooled me. I should have recognized it as Christianese. But here in this conference center it wra s different Socializing was over worship had begun. If the prophecy Ihad felt meant being with groups like this, that I could appreciate and accept.
One thing stil bothered me. Was I really supposed to stand up in front of these thousands of people to talk? It was one thing to speak about my experiences to people Iknew personally in Wah. But here? With all these strange-looking people from so many different continents? I did not feel at ease.
I hurried over to my hotel where I tried to settle down. I looked out the window at teeming Singapore. How different Sin gapore was from London and Paris. People jostled each other on the streets, hawkers sang their wares and automobiles threaded through the melee, constantly sounding hors. The very presof people seemed to over -whelm me herej just as it did in the conference hall. I shuddered, thrust the curtain closed and retreated to the other end of the room where I sat down and tried to calm myself.
"O Lord,"I cried, "where is Your comforting Spirit?"
And suddenly Irecalled a childhood experience of walking with my father through a market Place. Father cautioned me to stay by his side but, always active, I wanted to run off A flower display caught my attention and I ran over to it. Suddenly I realized that my father was not at my side. Panic filled me and I burst into tears. "Oh, Father'" I said, "come find me and I won't ever run away firom you again!" Even as I spoke, there he was, his tall slender figure coming quickly to- ward me through the crowd. I was with him againl All I wanted now was to stay by his side.
As I sat in the hotel room, I realized that in fact I hadleft my heaveniy Father again. By allow- ing myself to become anxious, I had run off from His comforting Presence. When would I learr that I cannot worry and trust God at the same time! I relaxed in my chair and felt at peace again.
"Oh, thank You, Father,"' I said weeping in relief . "Please forgive me for steppin g a way from You. You are here, You are in that hall. I'll be all right."
A few minutes later in the hotel lobby, I felt a hand on my arm and heard a familiar voice. looked around to see Dr. Mooneyham.
"Madame Sheikh, so good to have you here! Dr. Mooneyham seemed happy cnough to see me "Are you still wiling to speak?" It was as if he had been reading my mind.
"Don't worry about me," I said, smiling, "1ll be fine. The Lord is here."
Dr. Mooneyham just stood there, studying my face, as if making a decision about how to interpret my words. After all, I had been using Christianese too, and he wasn't going to take it at face value, possibly let it fool him as it had fooled me on the airplane. Dr. Mooneyham's eyes were reading my very soul. Then suddenly he seemed satisfied.
"Good," he said abruptly. You're slated for tomorrow morning." He looked at his watch "You'll have lots of prayer support."
Dr. Mooneyham had understood me correctly, The sense of peace lasted through the next moring too, when indeed I did get up in front of those thousands of people gathered in the auditorium to speak of how the Lord had found me in such a strange way. It was not at all diff cult speaking, He was with me as I stumbled and fumbled through the talk, embracing me anc encouraging me, assuring me that He was doing the communicating and not I. And as people surrounded me in loving fellowship after my talk, it was as if I had taken the first step in a new kind of work for the Lord.
The Lord also arranged my meeting a man who would become very important in my life, though I didn't realize it at the time. I was introduced to Dr. Christy wilson, a kind gentleman who was pastor of a church in Kabul, Afghanistan, which ministered to foreign nationals. We found a rapport in the Lord's Spirit as we discussed his work.
Then, the meetings were over and I was on my way back to Wah. Once again I sensed that the whole trip had a strangely foretelling character, as if God had asked me to come with Him to Singapore so that I could learn more about a type of work He wanted me to do.
Well, I said to myself, at least I'll be hecd-quartered in Wah. Perhaps I wouldn't mind too much going out on an Occasional trip from my comfortable and secure ancestral home.
But as the car turned of the Grand Trunk Road toward our house in the trees, I had no way of knowing that the weaning process was going to shatter more of that security.
