the Cold Shoulder

Over the last couple of weeks I've visited several families, and for the most part it's been a wonderful time of sharing, laughing, and getting to know them even better. One family in particular I've known basically since I arrived here over a year and a half ago. One of the daughters is close to my age, and we developed a friendship early on. We'd go to lunch together, browse favorite stores, and simply sit in talk. Towards the end of last summer the daughter began to drop hints that she wanted to travel back to America with me. I actually left for a couple of months for business and to visit family, and when I returned in September I thought that she'd forgotten about it. I was wrong. Starting in October she began her quest to convince me to help her get to America [and then travel and stay wit me]. Her persistence was incredible. I currently live in a place where cultural rules suggest that to deny a friend's request is likened to denying that friendship. Gently and firmly telling her no was difficult. We continued to spend time together, but I could tell this past winter that her demeanor towards me had changed some, and in general she seemed downhearted. Last week I stopped in to see her and her sister, and this past week I visited the family again - one of her brothers recently got married and I went to congratulate them and see pictures. On both of these recent visits I was given the cold shoulder. They welcomed me in at the beginning but then served me the normal assortment of food - water, juice, cookies - at an unusually quick pace. And then came .... the fruit. Thirty minutes after I had arrived. Here, when a family bring fruit out, it means that you need to think about leaving. I took my cue and left - neither visit lasted more than an hour or so.

Another family that I visited used to live down the road from me. They have three daughters near my age and a grandma with most profound, detailed wrinkles, and we've all spent many an afternoon cooking and watching Turkish soap operas. They moved across down last December, and I haven't seen them as often because of the distance. Borrowing my boss's car this week, I popped in to see them Wednesday afternoon. On the phone the youngest daughter sounded so excited to hear that I was coming. Yes, they were all home, and yes, they'd love to see me. No, they didn't have work, and no, no one was sick. Come, come come! Less than thirty minutes after I had arrived, two of the daughters left. Ten minutes later the mom got up, said she had some work, and left. Shortly thereafter the infamous fruit was brought in by the remaining daughter. I sat there on the floor next to the grandma, dumbfounded. I'm aware enough to know when I'm being given the cold shoulder.

I write all this because I've been thinking about how to react. I think ordinarily I'd be upset or hurt after all the time I've spent with these family. I thought that I'd done my best to show them care and respect, with the exception of agreeing to take my friend to America. However, after thinking more about it, I'm ok. Even though I'd love to see my relationship with them continue to deepen, and even more so their curiosity about my faith and interest in Jesus grow, I have a peace that it's not in my hands. I'm not in control. And perhaps it's just my human nature to look for ease in transition, but maybe their pulling back and disgruntled turn in our relationship is God's way of preparing me to say goodbye. I fly out in exactly five weeks. I know that goodbyes are a part of life, but I'm not sure they are something that we're actually intended to face or created for. In a perfect world, there would be no goodbyes. Not even in death. So as I think about this family that I love and will be sad to leave, I continue to have peace knowing that even if they continue to pull away and our relationship is never what is once was, God is sovereign.