If They Don’t Worry, Why Should We

by Dr. Rana Costa-El Hage

Above the kitchen sink in our rented Amman apartment is a window that overlooks a spruce tree. Over the past ten days since arriving in Jordan, I have had many chances to look out that window and watch different kinds of birds perch on its branches. It has been quite fascinating to see new species of birds that I have not seen in Beirut, but as I am admiring these birds, it has also been interesting to process through what very well could be the biggest change in my adult life 

As you may or may not know, around a month ago, Elie and I made the decision to leave Beirut and temporarily relocate to Amman, Jordan, after being faced with the biggest political, economic, financial, social, educational and health crisis in Lebanon’s history. Our decision was primarily driven by our children whose outlook at having a stable school year was bleak, the least cause of which being COVID. 

While we prayed and grappled with this decision, we knew that our God is greater than the circumstances and that His kingdom goes beyond just Beirut. Though it was hard to leave behind home, ministry, friends and family, we headed to our closest point of refuge that would also allow us to continue serving within the Middle East region, with the hope of returning to Beirut at the end of this academic year if the Lord so wills.

Watching those birds come and go this past week made me think of how birds take care of their young. They endure empty stomachs to make sure their young are fed. As parents, being stewards over our children pushed us to leave where we felt called to serve. It may be temporary, but the void is evident. We feel we have failed our country by turning our backs on our people, but we also know that we have made the right choice by prioritizing our children’s sanity, their education and our physical and mental capability to minister to them adequately.

Birds migrate. They leave harsh conditions in search of more amenable environments. While in Beirut, our resources were depleted: Offices would close at 2 p.m. after the allotted four to six hours of electricity, and clinics would occasionally shut down with no generators to maintain basic functions. Our productivity suffered. Our hearts sank. We felt limited and drained. However, as birds seek a new place to live, they continue with their purpose. They pollinate, they move seeds, they clean up the oceans, they eat pests and insects. 

The same applies for us. We shall continue to serve the Lord wherever we go, no matter what. Elie is blessed that his ministry has a local team here in Amman. His presence will be supportive to those leading local Bible study groups and serving in different relief efforts. Though my medical ministry will take on a new non-cardiac form, I will work at the Amman Baptist School as their on-site physician. I will make use of my contact with the students, staff and teachers to be salt and light. I will occasionally visit a clinic away from Amman at a BMA partner church to see adult cardiac patients. The possibility of discipling a group of teenage girls is also being discussed. We are certain new opportunities will arise throughout our year here in Amman. Regardless of location, our purpose will remain.

And birds home. After the winter, birds come back to their original nesting place. That is the desire of our hearts and for this we ask you to pray for the healing of our country, Lebanon. We are pleading with the Lord that He may intervene in the situation in Lebanon. And we hope to head back next summer to continue in the service of our people.

Looking outside the window, the record playing in my head is a simple children’s hymn – and a well-known verse: “Look at the birds of the air: they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.” (Matt. 6:26) 

Birds do not worry. So why should we? Are we not more valuable to Him who knows the depths of our hearts? In Beirut, in Amman, we will entrust our lives to Him and speak of His good works until we see His face in that city of pure gold.