"Where are you from?” asked the Turkish sales assistant. "If I get asked that question one more time I'll knock that persons block off." I thought, smiling, but never said. "How about a leather jacket, a watch, a shave?" This bombardment was beginning to get to me; my emotional thermostat was beginning to rise. Here I was in the middle of the Turkish Bazaar trying to find some souvenir of our family vacation to take home that wasn't just a fake brand name - Armani, Gucci or a Rolex watch - but a product of the real Turkey. Then we found it! Opposite the Turkish baths, across the road from the white stained mosque on the corner of the small-town square stood a small cluster of shops. Away from all the noise and clamour of bartering and hassle we at last found a reason for being here. Like finding an oasis in the desert, we walked into the first shop and drank in the tranquil atmosphere. Our eyes were met by a dazzling array of Turkish kilim art. All manner of bags, shoes and men's waistcoats were on display. Pat fell in love with t a multicoloured shoulder bag. It was beautiful and rich in colour, practical in design, just what she was looking for. The sale was made.
In conversation with a courteous salesman we discovered the bags on sale were made in different areas and mountain regions of Turkey. Each bag or item was an original not a clone. No two were identical; each was woven with a pattern or symbol that bore a meaning that represented our personal dreams and goals - no two were alike.
In the same way God has created each of us to shine in a way that only we can, our lives are a song that only we can sing with a purpose and a destiny that is distinct and tailor made for each one of us.