The moon, one of the two bright eyes that oversee the earth, shine beams of dazzling light on the rooftops, giving away my position if anyone dared look out their window. Here am I, on the highest part of the roof; the concrete walls my friends and the crisp evening air blow my soft curls against my shoulders as I sit and admire the glowing ball in the sky. Potential storm clouds sail the thin sea of cumulus clouds, wrapping around the mountains like a ghost ship sailing towards the east. In response, the clothes and billowy sheets sway on the clothesline, either waving at the great host of clouds or warning that they soon will come.
I found the ladder while dancing barefoot on the chilly cement roof. Four stories high and no one traveling the dirt streets would see me dancing. This is where I can be alone, where I can be free. Feel the dirt clinging to my feet; the cold air whipping my face, the current flowing from my toes to my fingertips. A wooden ladder lay propped against the wall of the small laundry room. With the thought that someone might see me, I hesitated, not wanting to cause a riot of why an American girl was climbing the roof in a Mus lim country in jeans and without a headscarf at night. But then the adventurous side of me kicked in and I gripped the rickety wooden ladder and climbed until I felt rough concrete.
However, I was not alone in my secret place.
"He who dwells in the secret place of the Most high shall remain stable and fixed under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my Refuge and my Fortress, my God; on Him I lean and rely, and in Him I trust!" Psalm 91:1-2
The wild boar scavenging food for its young, cats hopping from wall to wall, people chattering away in foreign tongue, shadows of families preparing for dinner flicker through the glass window panes. Everything God made surrounds me like a silent song, for not every living creature knows it's Creator.
K@
*Certain lingo used for security purposes.
I found the ladder while dancing barefoot on the chilly cement roof. Four stories high and no one traveling the dirt streets would see me dancing. This is where I can be alone, where I can be free. Feel the dirt clinging to my feet; the cold air whipping my face, the current flowing from my toes to my fingertips. A wooden ladder lay propped against the wall of the small laundry room. With the thought that someone might see me, I hesitated, not wanting to cause a riot of why an American girl was climbing the roof in a Mus lim country in jeans and without a headscarf at night. But then the adventurous side of me kicked in and I gripped the rickety wooden ladder and climbed until I felt rough concrete.
However, I was not alone in my secret place.
"He who dwells in the secret place of the Most high shall remain stable and fixed under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my Refuge and my Fortress, my God; on Him I lean and rely, and in Him I trust!" Psalm 91:1-2
The wild boar scavenging food for its young, cats hopping from wall to wall, people chattering away in foreign tongue, shadows of families preparing for dinner flicker through the glass window panes. Everything God made surrounds me like a silent song, for not every living creature knows it's Creator.
K@
*Certain lingo used for security purposes.
