God’s House

Friday has become a sacred day for me here in Afghanistan. Not because it’s the Muslim holy day and we take part in any religious service, but because we’ve been able to help Razia Jan as she devotes her day to serving others. Again this morning, Razia and I made 40 halwa sandwiches (cream of wheat cereal mixed with cardamom, raisins, sugar and butter nestled in yeast-free paraki flatbread) that we delivered to people on the streets of Kabul.

The halwa hot wraps went from our hands into those of many walks of life: women sitting nearly motionless in the road, cradling their babies; young boys busy collecting scrap from garbage heaps – hoping to trade it in for some money; and police officers working long hours at the checkpoint closest to our house (because as Kevin points out, there’s a little politics in everything, right?).

I spent my entire childhood going to church on Sundays without ever really knowing what it felt like to enter God’s house. Today I realize that if there is a God’s house at all, this is how it was built: not as an ornate cathedral with expensive stained glass windows, lavish altars, and soaring architecture, but right here under the open sky where there’s a view of the heavens through the trees. It exists right here in Kabul along a desolate dirt road and in all the places where the forgotten can be found.

We are in Afghanistan filming WHAT TOMORROW BRINGS.

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