My 30-by-30 List: New Item #24

Before I turned 30, I made a 30 by 30 list—a list of thirty things I wanted to do before or during my 30th year of life. Some of those items included: buy my dream car, get out of debt, and get in shape. Those are a few of the big rocks, two of which I'm still working on. Pray for me.

The one I'm most excited about is taking my first international trip. I don't have to dream about that one anymore. It's on the books. I've got my ticket and I'm leaving on a jet plane in September for Paris, France. Check.

I don't think I know what I'm in for. On a good day, I'd say I'm a street smart, cultured, refined young woman. But I really don't have a clue.

Yesterday, I met with a guy in our church for coffee. He's a former Turkish Muslim turned Christian minister who has taken up residence in America.

How does that happen? That's what I wanted to know. So I decided to get his story and write it down.

His story is fascinating. What amazed me the most about him (he who is only a few months younger than me) is how vastly different his childhood was from mine. Of course it was. I knew it would be. But, during our 90-minute conversation, reality smacked me in the face. I really am a clueless small-town girl.

Let's be honest. I've always thought anyone from the Middle East secretly wanted to rid the world of all Christians or any Westerner, for that matter.

To heck with what the government says—my own Homeland Security Threat Advisory System level has always been at least two levels above what they've suggested. I mean, I specifically looked for a different route out of the country over Detroit when booking my trip because I'd always heard Michigan has the highest population of Muslims.

Are you kidding me? I'm embarrassed. But, hey, I'm just being honest here.

Apparently, "they" are as scared of us as we are of them because of how we've responded to most after 9/11. It makes my stomach queasy to think about how ignorant I've been when it comes to my Middle Eastern neighbors. That's definitely NOT how Jesus would've done it.

Some are radicals, for sure. But my new friend informed me about the grand number of "secular Muslims" rising up in that area of the world.

I shot him a blank stare and he smiled. With a thick Turkish accent, he said, "It's kind of like your Christians who only attend church at Christmas and Easter." Oh. OK. I get that. They're everywhere here. I'm related to some of them.

Most Easterners don't want to be like Westerners because of how they see us represented on television, in music, and through magazines. According to them, we're "unethical" and "immoral." They find it repulsive to see American teenage girls having sex with older men, people overdosing on drugs and drowning their sorrows in alcohol, and men leaving their wives and families for selfish reasons that no one can explain.

The culture we demonize is more moral than we are and find us sickening and grotesque. Go figure.

This has only peaked my interest. Now, I want to know so much more about my Middle Eastern neighbors. It's sparked a fire in me to reach out to those who live in my own apartment complex.

It's even affected my psyche in preparing for my trip to Paris. I'm excited about the architecture, history, and people, but I don't think I know what I'm in for. The world outside of Small-town, Texas and Mid-Size-Town, Tennessee is big. I mean BIG. Bigger than what I've ever known or can even handle. Big—HUGE.

I guess I'm not as "smart" as I thought I was. Hopefully, my upcoming adventure will educate me—you know, school me on a few more things about life, people, and God's role in it all.

And I've found a new item to add to my 30 by 30 list. Item #24: Befriend and reach out to a Middle Easterner in my community.