If there is one thing I have learned, respect means a lot to this 30-year-old North African man. Hamid has been my language helper for the last six months. He used to have his own event-organizing business that went belly up, and he lost everything. Hamid responded by fleeing to Qatar for several months to work and purge his mind and spirit of the sense of failure. Upon returning to North Africa, he took some classes and now works as a freelance DJ.

When you ask someone here to teach you something in Arabic, they will often automatically resort to standard Arabic. With Hamid, though, I emphasized that I needed to learn the local Arabic dialect, which is quite different. He has consistently followed through on this. That he knows French and some English enhances our communication.

The first month we studied together coincided with Ramadan. Each time I went to his house for our lesson, his wife was watching a TV show set in times long past.

“What show is this?” I asked.

“It’s about this fellow Youssef who had 11 brothers, and they betrayed him, and he ended up in prison.”

“I think I know this story.”

“We watch one episode each night during Ramadan,” he explained. “We also read the Koran all the way through during the 30 days while we are fasting.” He brought out his copy to show me. “I started to do it, but lately, I have not had time.”

Not long after, his chicha—a rather large contraption in which you smoke tobacco through a water pipe—led to an interesting exchange. When I inquired how it worked, Hamid asked me if I wanted to try it. “Oh, no thanks. I don’t smoke.” My answer led to a brief discussion on health. When I stated that I was vegetarian and did not drink or smoke, he exclaimed, “You will go straight to paradise!” Apparently, in this corner of Muslim culture, people know that smoking and drinking are harmful, but many men and even a good deal of women still do so.

Our family invited Hamid and his wife to eat out on one occasion. He knows I pray; I always lead us in a short prayer before our language lessons. When our food came, I got the idea to ask Hamid to bless the food. He was game. In English, and with some awkwardness, he began, “God, we are thankful for this opportunity to meet Samuel’s family and share this meal. You have brought them here from America and are helping them get used to living here. Please bless this meal, and . . .” Searching for a way to conclude, he settled on “God bless America!” It was a beautiful prayer.

Hamid has a strong drive to prove himself. Just a few months ago, he quit his regular DJ job at a nightclub because one of his co-workers showed him a “lack of respect,” in his estimation. The boss offered to give him his job back, but Hamid refused. He told me he would rather sit at home, jobless but with his self-respect intact.

I have often felt that Hamid is just another typical, nominal Muslim who goes along with the cultural norms but is not searching for something deeper. But at times, he surprises me. His television is sometimes on while we study, and once, he came upon a Christian cartoon. The fact that the program was about the battle between Lucifer and God, portraying angels fighting, rubbed him the wrong way. “What is this? This is offensive to God! You should not make representations of heavenly beings. Sometimes you have movies with actors playing Jesus—this is disrespectful!”

Please join me in praying for Hamid. I don’t know if our relationship will ever extend beyond a working one, but I pray that just as God has caused our paths to cross, He would also stir Hamid’s heart to awaken to His eternal reality and that Hamid would find Christ as his personal Savior and Lord. May God bless our prayers.

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