I’ve never been to Kansas, but I could definitely say I wasn’t there at all. I awoke with a start my first morning to the to the droning of the muezzin calling the neighborhood to their morning prayers. As my bleary eyes began to clear, I looked out my window to the deserted street below. Everything was different. I couldn’t even read the signs. And everything was a shade of brown.
A few hours later I summoned up all the courage I possessed to venture out on my own in this new metropolis. A city that has been inhabited for millenia. And one that hasn’t changed all that much. As I aimlessly wandered the streets, hoping I would remember the way back to my place of rest, I began to look in the faces of those to whom I had come to befriend, learn from, and share the Truth with. I was struck by the similarities between my desert surroundings and those faces. They were has hard and dry as the land on which they resided. As my feet took me through small alleyways, my mind meandered through the dark corners of doubt to the bright, peaceful place that is reliance completely on Jesus. But that peace came with a realization that my spiritual walk was about to take a very difficult turn.
I most certainly was not in Kansas anymore.