A friend of mine who used to live here in Tunisia wrote to me when she heard about this recent upheaval that they are calling the “Jasmine Revolution.” This friend insisted that I was to be credited (or blamed depending on how you see things) with these events. She said this because for years I have assiduously, and somewhat notoriously, prayed that something would “happen” here to shake things up. Obviously I can’t take credit for this revolution, but I do admit to consistently praying for exactly these sorts of outcomes. For so long I have observed a tension – an angst underneath the calm and light hearted exterior of Tunisians. I have perceived this restlessness bubbling up within the society and verbalized on many occasions that it would require something dramatic – something drastic to allow Tunisians to become fully who they are meant to be – who they desire to be. What we have seen in this country during the last two weeks is almost precisely what I have hoped for but never thought would come. It is almost exactly what I have prayed so long for, but secretly feared was impossible and I am here in the midst of it; I am a firsthand witness to it and it is almost more than I can bear.
There is no question that many have paid a price for this revolution. People have died, property has been damaged, and at its height we all experienced more than our share of fear, but overwhelmingly Tunisians are thrilled with what has happened. In some places the demonstrations persist and nobody quite knows if the people now in control will adequately administer the mandate of this revolution, but there is a hopefulness among the people here that I have never before seen. For so long people here have been controlled and repressed and now that they are free they are exploding with self expression and bursting forth opinions both sacred and profane. This self expression is at times feverish and chaotic and it certainly can be confusing for many Tunisians, but all seem to agree that liberty is well worth the nuisance. Witnessing people that I love experience this sort of liberty for the first time is an honor that I feared I would never have, and it is almost more than I can bear.
Many of my friends have said to me over the last few days that they are happy with what has happened but now they hope things go back to normal. But the truth is it will never go back to normal – I don’t want it to. Things are still tenuous here, and nobody knows what the future will hold, but it is clear that it will never again be what it was. I am so proud of what Tunisians have done here and how they have behaved themselves. The overwhelming majority of Tunisians have been heroes they have been champions in the midst of all this. They have behaved appropriately and lovingly, it has brought out the best in them. Yesterday I went to the souk (outdoor market) and I noticed it more beautiful than ever. The fruits and vegetables were as abundant and colorful as I have ever seen them. I made a comment about this to one of the vendors and he said to me, “Even the produce has been allowed to breathe!”
It is almost more than I can bear that in the midst of all of this I am giving birth to my fourth child. I feel like I have the opportunity to share with this adopted land the experience of giving birth to something new. Childbirth is like a microcosm of what the Tunisians are experiencing. We aren't forcing this to happen we are instead vessels through which something miraculous is taking place. We aren't creating something ourselves, rather we are begetting what is ultimately a gift from God. Childbirth is painful, it is messy and it is out of our control, but it is wonderful and inevitable. For me giving birth at this time in this place is like a sacrament of this new reality and it is almost more than I can bear.
