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Thoughts on the Muslim Call to Prayer

This video was taken from Golconda Fort over an area of the city with a high Muslim population.

This is the sound of hopeless devotion. It is the sound of men and women devoting their entire lives to worship.

Don’t get me wrong, I love to worship. I have always found worship to be extremely fulfilling. It started as a love for music, but quickly branched into a love for the Lord that reaches beyond music. And that’s just it. It really comes down to an expression of love. But who are you worshipping? Who do you love? God has been showing me that there are many way to worship him. I now walk away from time with God with a full heart, anxious to spend more time with him. I wonder if these people feel the same. Do they love to pray? Do they love to worship? I’m confident that many do. That their practice brings them a feeling of purpose and happiness.

And yet, when I hear the Muslim call to prayer, I can’t help but think of how temporary and one sided that feeling is. It is hard for me to think that many will not know what it is like to serve a God who not only listens when you pray, but responds when you listen. A God that, while mysterious, knows us intimately and desires friendship with us.

This is the God I serve.

But I didn’t fly across the world to bring God to these people. He is already here. He is everywhere. I came to serve Him in whatever way He asks me to. Sometimes that looks like cleaning, sometimes it looks like throwing valentines parties. It is bringing little boys to the water park. It is becoming friends with the girl across the street.

It is easy to stand atop a hill, look over the city, and see a lost people. I did, as many do. Nice views have that affect on people. It is much harder to stand in church on Sunday and ache for the lost around you. Your town. Your country. Your responsibility.

I did not come to India to find the hopeless. Hopelessness is everywhere. I came to learn how to rejoice in the middle of cockroach infested kitchens. To encourage people without words. To know what matters and what doesn’t.

The call to prayer, blaring through these speakers, does not matter. But every soul listening does. It hurts my heart to think that these people might not get to spend forever with a God who loves them back. That does matter.

It matters so much.

But it does not matter any more than the lost people among you. Your city. Your country. Your community.

I realize that for anyone reading this that does not believe in God, or for anyone who believes that God is fluent beyond religion, or that there is many gods, this might sound ridiculous and judgemental. But I promise, when you learn about who Jesus really is. And when you start to love him. There is nothing more gratifying then serving him. And there is nothing you want more then for others to experience the same thing.

I was reminded of this as I listened to the call to prayer, echoing throughout the city.

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