"The only real voyage consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes; in seeing the universe through the eyes of another, one hundred others--in seeing the hundred universes that each of them sees."~ Marcel Proust

I recently went on an enlightening voyage via Paula Jolin's In the name of God. Not only did I experience vivid new landscapes, I saw a new universe through the eyes of another: seventeen-year-old Nadia from Damascus, Syria.

Nadia has always been a religious girl with strong convictions. As she matures, she struggles to find God's path for her life amidst family troubles, political strife, and the painful ordeal of simply being a teenager.

Nadia is deeply affected when her beloved cousin is arrested for voicing his outrage against the Syrian government. Sympathetic to his cause, and searching for an opportunity to be of use to God, Nadia gravitates toward Walid, the mysterious young man who invites her to join a secret Islamic fundamentalist group.

Exploring this new-found sense of purpose, Nadia becomes emboldened to express her opinions to her more moderate family members:

I took a sip of tea, still so hot it burned my tongue.

"Sarah's not as advanced in religion as you are, Nadia." Auntie Um Suheil lifted her own cup of tea and blew across the top ."

I clicked my burned tongue. "I'm not advanced. But when it says in the Qur'an 'put a scarf on your head' I put it on. When it says 'pray' I get down on my knees. It's not that hard to figure out."

She blew again. "I don't know what's come over you, Nadia."

What had come over me? Maybe an understanding that God rewards the Believers who follow his laws.

What would it take to force the infidels to flee the ruthless desert sun? More Muslims following God's law, that was certain. Every step backward the Unbelievers had taken, however small, has been the result of pious men standing up for justice. Believers strapped bombs around their waists to blow up buses and enemies, and bingo--the world was calling for an end to illegal occupation.

Insurgents or patriots? Terrorists--my mind quailed at the word--or good men who refuse to watch evil and do nothing? Rebels or the Founding Fathers of our future Islamic Empire?

I drained my teacup and set it on the table. "I'm the same girl I've always been, Auntie," I said. "I'm just braver now."

Eventually, Nadia considers the ultimate sacrifice for her people and the God she loves. As she leaves her household on the appointed day of her mission, we see Nadia's ardent resolve punctuated with flickers of doubt:

I let the hot sun warm my mind and my heart. Time to prepare myself for the final hour. Was I actually going to do this? With thoughts about my brothers and marriage and tea roaming through my head? Calm down, Nadia. You have time to think, time to pray duas. Our Lord! Forgive us our sins and the lack of moderation in our doings, and make firm our steps and succor us against those who deny the truth.

Deny the truth. Was that what I was doing? The truth was all around me: blue sky, happy sun, long strands of grass waving with the breeze. Was killing myself, for whatever cause, denying that?

Deep breath, Nadia. Duas, not doubts. Our Lord! In You we have placed our trust, and to You do we turn in repentence, for unto You is the end of all journeys.

This was my last journey, the last time I would feel the sun bear down on my covered head. Hot sun, hot pavement, hot as hell. Breathe, Nadia. I was doing the right thing, the Islamic thing. American feet marching into Baghdad, American mouths claiming the moral victory. Israeli grenades, launched with American dollars at innocent Palestinian babies. The only thing they listened to was death--just their luck, that was the only music I could play.

I felt Nadia's struggle. I wanted answers to her poignant questions. And, most importantly, I understood her pain, her reasons, her desire to do such a thing, even though I do not share her beliefs or convictions. This is a powerful thing. Winston Churchill once said, "I do not ask how the wounded person feels. I simply become that wounded person." I became Nadia during the extent of my voyage, and I am the better for it. Such illuminations are usually hard won, but Paula Jolin accomplishes it with bravery and apparent ease. I enjoyed the complex portrait she paints of Nadia, her family, and her people, and was reminded of the many ways in which we are all so different, yet so astonishingly similar. Thank you, Paula!

* * * * * *

(I'd like to throw out a question about the ending, to see how people respond, but I don't want to give too many spoilers.... Has anyone else read In the Name of God, yet? Oh, well, please do!! I want to hear what you think.)