As I landed back in the Arab world, I immediately was hit with memories and excitement. It was good to be back in a familiar place. I felt comfortable and at ease. The organizer of the training met me at the airport then we waited for 7-10 of the participants to arrive from their home country. 

Day one was rest, planning, and meeting with our translator before the actual training began the following day. Our translator was young, shy but well-spoken and a capable woman. During the evening she texted my co-facilitator asking if she could bring a friend to help translate as she felt the task was too big for one person. We agreed. 

The first day of the training begins. The other 20 or so participants arrived late. Some only getting 5 hours of sleep and others getting 1-2 hours of rest. Apparently, there was a misunderstanding at the airport and a few of them were detained for hours. Multiple layers to this story but they were not calm nor rested entering into this crisis care training. 

I felt the anxiety in the room. From many of the participants who were tired. Just meeting others for the first time. The organizers who were juggling countless matters behind the scenes. From my co-facilitator for whatever reasons. Also from the two young translators. So I began with acknowledging the tiredness and stress. We paused to breath in through our nose and exhale with our mouth. Just a few moments of breathing seemed to help. At least for some of us. Including me.

15 minutes into introductions, our translators quit! Yep, you read that correctly. One of the young women looked at me and simply said, “I can’t do this.” So, what do we do? What would you do? I simply paused. Others stood up and took the microphone. The two young women went to sit down and one of the participants continued as the translator for that day and the remainder of the training. 

At the break, I went over to these two young women who were sitting with their backs to the room, not wanting to look at anyone. I said, “look at me, raise your heads. I am glad to meet you and honored to know you. I am proud of you. I have a daughter and I tell her that she is brave and courageous. And you too are brave and courageous.” Tears began to form in their eyes. A couple older participants came over to encourage them, hug them, and express compassion. 

What a beginning! 

So, who are these participants? Trailblazers. Influencers. Dreamers. Culture makers. One woman was the first woman to drive in her city, get a degree, and get a master’s degree. One of the only 80 trained psychiatrists in their country is in the room. A man walked up to me at the break and said, “I am not Arab. I am _____ (he names his tribe).” I later find out that his dad is the chief of a tribe that runs into 3-4 other countries. Basically, he was telling me, “I am a big deal.” Conflicting tribes were represented in this training. People who talk with the Prime Minister regularly. People who not only have the vision to change their country but the influence and resources to make it happen. They were from three different areas across their home country. However, they were also people with deep pain and loss. Among the participants was a man who lost his pregnant wife and four children in the flood named Hamza.

Surreal. 

After the introductions and before moving into anything related to pain or loss, I asked all the participants to imagine a peaceful place or moment. Relive it. This practice would hopefully create an anchor to go back to as we moved forward in processing their hurt and pain. 

We taught about how to be a safe, trusted listener. One participant’s feedback was helpful, “normally we are communicating with each other about information; it was refreshing to be able to express freely and talk about our emotions for a change.” 

We also introduced the Journey of Grief and asked for examples of people who had experienced great loss. Someone mentioned Moses’ mother, when she ‘threw her baby in the river’, she felt great loss. I brought up the example of Ayub (or Job for non-Arabic speakers) as someone who experienced great loss [more on this later]. When I illustrated how we move between the villages, and how we might drag our friends through the villages more quickly than they are ready, the visual made an impact. One shared a local proverb, “You don’t close a wound before it is healed.” Another participant shared afterwards that this exercise helped her realize how she can walk alongside others in processing their pain, as many friends have been coming to her wanting to process their story. Up to now, she has been afraid, because she senses it is such a big responsibility. She told us at the end of the day, “now I feel equipped, like I can listen to them well, and walk with them through this journey.” 

I concluded the day by asking if anyone in the room struggles to sleep. Almost all of the hands went up. I taught them a simply breathing practice as well as a practice we call 1-1-1 to increase joy as you lay down at night. The next day one of the women interjects, “I did that practice that Mr. Steve told us about. I have slept better than I ever have. Thank you.” Yes, thank You, Father for giving us sleep. 

Day one of the training ended well. While waiting for dinner, the man who told me that he is not Arab, made a comment to me. “Thanks for mentioning Ayub. No one else respects my religion like you did.” That was surprising and unexpected. Spirit is with us! 

Day two of the training is marked for me with two different events and a range of emotions: the men’s bathroom and uncooked spaghetti noodles.

Let’s begin with the story behind the men’s bathroom. It began when a participant shared a challenging story in too much detail. The story even translated into English was bothering me. People noticed that it was especially bothering Hamza. I made eye-contact with him to see if he was okay. He was not but nodded as if all is well. Some of the participants kept getting my attention to help him or get him to talk in front of the entire group. Within moments, he walked out of the room. I immediately stood up to follow him, but I needed a translator since my Arabic is lacking and his English is zero. The person that I asked to help is one of the female organizers. 

We walked out to find Hamza. You guessed it. He was in the men’s bathroom. So I along with my female translator (she is a believer) walked into the men’s bathroom to be with him. He was smoking one cigarette after another as well as crying. People have told me his story but he has not told me his story. So I asked simply, “will you tell me what happened?” 

We listened as he pours out his heart and distress. He showed us pictures of his beautiful wife and kids as well as his lovely home. All of it lost. He then proceeded to tell us what others have said to him. “It is God’s will. Just move on. You are weak if you cry. You need to get another wife. Don’t cry.” He also voiced his questions, “how is this God’s will? Why?” As we listened for what seems like an hour or more, I tell my female friend, we have to simply ask Spirit what to do or say because this is overwhelming for all of us. We felt and knew Spirit was with us in the moment. Never a doubt. He was guiding our interaction. 

Hamza was tired and wants, even needs, to stop talking. I ended by asking, “how do you think you can get peace in your heart and mind?” He responded, “is that even possible?” We walked out of the men’s bathroom and back to the training. 

I am glad to say that weeks later Hamza is doing better. Others have reported to me his demeanor and countenance have changed. He is “lighter” as they say. He is rebuilding his house and said that “he has found himself.” Keep praying for him as he processes much. Asking for peace/shalom to overtake his mind and heart. 

The other event is related to uncooked spaghetti noodles. The afternoon of day two was set aside for rest. The majority of the participants decided they wanted to play team-building games. Little did we realize how much these three hours would produce of childlike wonder and laughter. The first game we had to use uncooked spaghetti noodles, scotch tape, and one long string to form the highest possible tower which could support a piece of candy. We played 4-5 games including human knot and fishbowl. One commented to me afterwards, “we never laugh like this together or sing [silly, fun] songs as men and women. This was such an amazing time for us.” Laughter and play are healing agents when used at the appropriate times. 

A new birth

Basma, the woman who was forced into translation, ended up sharing deep things with me. She spoke after the first day about feeling different and something inside her changing as if she was “pregnant.” I said it sounds like you are having a “new birth” in your life. Her eyes widened and she exclaimed, “that’s it. A new birth.” Later, she completed her feedback form by answering the question “how has this training benefitted you?” with one sentence – “I am born again.” 

The last evening after dinner Basma pulled me aside to share about a childhood trauma related to her mother. She began by saying, “I do not know why I am telling you this, but I feel like I should and I want to.” This trauma was multi-layered including shame and addictions. I told her a story of how more of this or less of that usually leads to a roller coaster and little lasting change. I then told her about a woman with a similar story but instead used joy to transform her life. Thankfully these two women have been able to connect a couple of times already. 

The power of touch and tone

At another moment with Basma, she told me, “I wish that I could hug you. But you know that I cannot because of our culture.” I simply said, “I understand.” Two other women said the same thing to me about wanting to hug me. Others, including Hamza, told me how calming and relaxing my voice was to them. He apologized to me for turning his back to me while I was teaching. Honestly, I did not notice but he said that my voice was so calming to him that he began to cry and did not want others to see him. As I told this story to my mother, she was quick to point out that “this sounds like the Holy Spirit.” I laughed. Obviously, it was Spirit and not my regal voice. But leave it to moms to keep their sons humble and in place. Thanks mom! 

Day three of the training was centered about the six stages for disaster, being a resilient helper and self-care, and implementation within their context and communities. As with most professional trainings within the Arab world, you end with a presentation of certificates and delivery of speeches. Photos. Lots of photos. Such fun. Giving of gifts was also a part of the culmination. During my brief speech, I mentioned two things that stood out to me. We walked in that room as 30+ individuals from various backgrounds and experiences but we were walking out as friends. This was just the beginning not the end. Also, I told them that I was better because of meeting them. I truly believe that. Those men and women’s stories and experiences have changed me for the better. I was inspired by them. Their determination. Perseverance. Vision. Love for their own people. Willingness to learn from others. 

That evening the participants went out together for what we thought was a time to relax and enjoy their last night in another country. The next day we discovered that they went to debrief together and discuss how each of them had benefitted from this training. They recorded each person’s answer and posted it on social media. Again, these are Influencers. Dreamers. Culture makers. Visionaries. 

To date, I have meet with the leadership three times since gathering face to face. I have another meeting with them to discuss next steps. The key organizer said, “We are planning to implement what we learned in our communities as well as offer additional training across our country. To better assist with these endeavors, we created a training center.” 

One last story. The final morning at breakfast before heading to the airport, I noticed that Basma was sitting by herself. I asked to sit with her as she is also one of the main organizers. As we talked, she expressed how much she learned from me by having to be the translator i.e. how to communicate clearly, remain calm when others share difficult things, etc. We discussed how she would not have been my translator if those two young women had not quit the first day. Together, we agreed that God allowed this to happen so that we could get to know each other better. What initially appeared as bad or hard, ended up good and forming an ongoing friendship. 

Stay tuned! More to come as a result of this 3-day training.